Howls at the Window
by itsacoolparty
Summary: Ana's life is not how she imagined it. She may have money and fame, but all of that is eclipsed by the fact that she is stuck with an abusive husband. When she meets Christian Grey, will Ana finally be able to turn her life around and acquire the happiness that she's always wanted?
1. Those Cookies Are Hot

_**MUST READ: Hello, guys! Okay, so this idea for a story came to me in a dream. (Stephanie Meyer, anyone?) And I just KNEW I had to get it out. But the problem is, I don't know if I should make this a long term thing. Some people may not like it, so if you do and want it to be a story, just say so(: Also, Ana's husband will not have a name. We will just call him "He" (with a capitol H) because He is too evil to have a name. So, if you see "he" (with a lowercase h) it is referring to any other man that pops up in the story(: Finally, if you like this, give me a clue as to what you want to see in the next chapter. Does anyone have any ideas of how they should meet again? Thanks for reading!**_

* * *

I'm dangling on the edge of dormancy and awareness. I'm in a "in-between" sort of state. My insides are fighting; one wants to stay asleep, and the other, more masochistic part is fighting to reach consciousness. I know that if I wake up, I'll have another day of hell to face. And if I stay asleep, I will be protected in my cocoon of bliss. Nothing could touch me.

Unfortunately, I feel hands roaming down the length of my arm, giving me tickling embraces. The sensation zaps me awake.

I open my eyes, and the sunlight streams in. It's impossibly bright for a winter day in Seattle. I let my heart fill with hope; maybe this will be a good day, Mother Nature seems to think so. My blossoming heart, however, is crushed when I continue to feel fingertips brushing my skin. His fingers trace over the purplish skin, it's just starting to bruise. His hand is gentle going over the marks, much more gentle than it was last night. Maybe he feels guilty, or is at least trying to make it seem like he feels guilty. I decide to go with the latter. Demons can't feel real remorse.

He's lying next to me. He always lies next to me. It shouldn't be anything peculiar, that's usually what married couples do. Married couples, however, aren't supposed to leave bruises on their partners.

His fingers trail lower, reaching my hip bone. _Don't move, don't move_, I tell myself. I just let him do it. I can't inch away, or flinch. He'll get mad at me. I also, however, can't make myself respond. His touch isn't comforting or arousing anymore. His touch only evokes bad memories and fear now.

He continues, touching and using my body solely for his pleasure. Maybe He thinks that it feels nice for me, or maybe He knows it doesn't. Knowing that everything He does disgusts me, especially this, would only make Him enjoy it more. He doesn't get any feedback from me. I don't make a sound, or any sort of movement. I also don't feel anything, just numbness. I've stopped feeling a long time ago.

* * *

The mirror is steamy. I search for my reflection, but I can't seem to find it. It's lost in the sea of fog.

I bring my hand up, and swipe the mist off of the mirror. As I do so, I notice that I've also managed to acquire a bluish-purple bruise on my hand. I don't recall how that one happened.

As all of the smog gets removed, I'm able to see myself once again. Thankfully, my face has been spared. There's no bruises, but I notice that even without them I look different. I look weaker. Uglier. Powerless. I can't stand the sight of myself anymore, I feel ashamed. I allow myself to get hurt time and time again. I suffer in silence. I hate Him and what He does, but yet I don't defend myself, or speak up.

Maybe some sick part of me actually likes it.

* * *

He's speaking to me. I can see His lips moving, and He's making lots of hand gestures, but I can't bring myself to listen. I've stopped listening to what He says a long time ago, since the only things He's had to say were horrid. Defiling. They made me feel worse than I already did.

_"Don't you need a license to be that ugly?"_

_"Go change your clothes, you look like a whore.."_

_"Shut up, you stupid bitch!"_

_"Why did I ever marry you?"_

_"Stop eating, you're getting fat.."_

_"You're such a disappointment... Where did I go wrong?_

"Christian Grey..." Wait.. what? I don't think that was one of the belittling things He's said to me in the past. My ears perk up, and I tune in to what He's saying. This will be one of the first times I've actually listened to Him in months.

"... Is coming over today to discuss a business deal. If it goes well, he'll become a partner with HCS. Do you know how huge this could be for my company?! Now, I don't want you fucking this up, you hear me? "

"I want you to curl your hair, put on a nice dress, wear some makeup, put on some nice perfume, maybe serve us a few refreshments, and whatever you do, don't talk! The last thing I need is for you to say something stupid and ruin my business deal," He spits out at me.

I ignore his harsh tone and harsh words, and I allow myself to feel a small frisson of joy. I haven't left the house in months, and I haven't been allowed to see any of my family of friends in person. I can only Skype them or talk on the phone. I haven't seen anyone other than Him in so long.. I can't wait to see another human face. My heart blossoms with hope once more, and I think to myself, _maybe Mother Nature was right. Maybe today will be a good day._

* * *

I gently unplug the curling iron, and I am satisfied with the finished product. My brown hair is usually strewn everywhere, but today it is curled into beautiful ringlets that outline my face. It is in perfect order, and for the first time in a couple of weeks, I actually smile a genuine smile at my reflection.

I extract my makeup from it's bag, and start dabbing powder on to my skin. I grimace at my pale complexion, no doubt from me not being outside in months. My friends and family all think I'm away with Him on a business trip to Greenland, and that's why I'm so pale. Little do they know, that I am still in Seattle, locked in my penthouse like Rapunzel. I have always been naturally pale, but now I look albino. I hope Christian Grey isn't disgusted by pale women.

I gasp at the audacity of my thoughts. I am confused and albeit a little bit shocked as to why I care what he thinks about my looks. I don't even know him.. Why am I trying my hardest to look beautiful for him?

I shake my head, and clear my mind of all thoughts. I don't know why I'm trying to impress Mr. Grey so much, but it really doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that I will actually be able to interact with another human being face to face. Well, there won't be much interacting since I'm not allowed to talk, but you know what I mean.

I continue powdering my face, and am satisfied when my skin looks smooth and perfect. I quickly grab some blush, and get the darkest shade of red I can find. I glide it over my cheeks, and the little pop of color already improves my pale shade. I continue the beautifying process, adding mascara, lip gloss, eyeliner, and a minute amount of grey eye shadow. _Hmm, grey eye shadow for Mr. Grey..._

Again, I am shocked at my wayward thoughts. I have no business thinking of him that way. I shake my head again to clear my thoughts. I need to get a grip, and fast.

I try to ignore my peculiar thinking, and walk towards my closet. I have been in my robe while I worked on my hair and makeup, and now that it's time to choose what to wear, I have no idea what I'm going to pick. Should I wear a fancy dress? Or should I be casual? Sexy? I quickly dismiss that thought. If I ever dare wear something provocative in the company of another man, I don't think I would live long enough to see tomorrow. He would most definitely punish me for it.

I take a look at all of the choices in my walk in closet. He has pretty much monitored and dictated everything that I've bought. Hell, most of the things He's bought Himself. I take a look at the endless choices, and soon decide to wear a red, long sleeved flare dress. It's absolutely beautiful, and I don't remember ever wearing it. It's sexy, but in a subtle way. It looks naturally seductive, like I'm not trying to be provocative at all. For once, I feel giddy. Excited. I can't wait to put it on. And for once, I actually feel pretty.

* * *

"Ana, get your ass down here! Christian is going to be here any moment and you have yet to start baking those cookies!" He yells up at me.

His voice is impatient, and I quickly zip up the dress and place my feet in to the matching red louboutins. I have about 45 seconds before he get's really angry, and I really don't want to piss him off. I don't think my body could take it. I take one last glance at myself, and I am pleased with my reflection. _That's a first,_ I think silently.

I race down the stairs and into the kitchen. He is sitting in the dining room, with His paperwork spread out on to the table. He doesn't look up when I pass him. He never does. I guess I'm not important enough to look at. As I am making the cookies, I take the time to stare at Him. Analyze Him. Figure out what I ever saw in Him.

I have to admit, He _is_ quite handsome. The thought makes my insides turn. Yeah, he might be beautiful on the outside, but His soul is twisted and dark. I now know why I had found myself drawn to Him. His tan skin, absolutely perfect with no blemishes. His long, wavy, dark hair that contrasts with His ocean blue eyes that were strikingly similar to my own. That thought also makes my insides turn. I fell in love with Him because He was beautiful, and for the first couple of months of our relationship, He was so sweet. And loving. And gentle.

Looks can be very deceiving.

I place the cookies in the oven, allowing them to bake. Hopefully, they'll be done before Christian gets here, so I won't have to hear Him complain later about how I wasn't prepared.

_*Knock, Knock...*_

Damn. I guess I'll have to deal with His complaining.

"Alright, he's here. Make yourself look presentable, and don't say anything," He snarls at me. Right. I have to stay silent. The thought saddens me slightly, but I soon perk up when I hear the door open, and two pairs of footsteps moving towards the dining room.

I scurry over to the dining room table, and take a second to pat my hair down and rearrange my dress. I have to look "presentable." The footsteps are getting closer, and I know they'll be here any second. I take a deep breath, and mentally prepare myself to finally see someone in person after many long months. The footsteps stop, and I quickly look up, ready to meet this mysterious businessman.

I know I said I mentally prepared myself, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of Christian Grey. Was he even human? I'm sorry, but he looked more like a Greek god than an actual human being. he had smoldering grey eyes, the kind that you could get lost in to, and a mop of copper colored hair. It was messy, and had a sort of "just-fucked" look to it. he had a perfectly chiseled face, with a small smatter of stubble outlining his jaw. he looked absolutely beautiful. So beautiful it took my breath away. For the first time in years I felt aroused.

Oh my god. Did I really just think that? I felt a blush creep up my neck and over my cheeks as Mr. Grey smiled at me. his smile was almost sexier than his face, if that's even possible. he outstretched one of his hands, and I eagerly took it.

Maybe a little too eagerly. his hand was large and warm, it completely encompassed my hand. I found myself not wanting to let go once my hand was inside his. It had been a long time since I had felt a warm embrace.

"Hello, I'm Christian Grey. And you are?" he asked in a deep timber. his voice was soft and velvety, caressing every word that he spoke. I could lose myself in that voice. I opened my mouth to reply, but I was unsure if I was allowed to speak. I had to keep "silent." I looked over at Him, who was giving me an exasperated look, one that said, _"Are you an idiot or something? Answer the man!"_ He was encouraging me to speak.

Go figure.

"I-I'm Ana. Anastasia Mal," I stuttered. Ugh! I inwardly chastised myself for being so incompetent. I couldn't even string a sentence together without fumbling. Christian, however, didn't notice. he just smiled once more and said, "It's nice to meet you, Anastasia." I wondered why he didn't just call me Ana, but I didn't think too hard about it. I was too busy admiring him. he was absolutely stunning, and I know women must be all over him, all the time. he's rich, famous, and good looking. he was the complete package. Christian and Him talked for awhile about stuff I didn't understand very well, but I was perfectly content with just watching Christian.

Soon, I had to excuse myself to go get the cookies. They had been baking long enough, and I didn't want them to burn. He would definitely punish me if they did.

As I was getting the cookies out of the oven, I felt a presence behind me. Oh, no. Please don't let it be Him. I set the cookies down, and braced myself for what was coming next. Probably a verbal assaulting, and then a promise for a physical one after Christian left. I didn't know what I had done wrong, but it didn't matter. If He felt like beating me, He did. And He never needed a reason. As I turned around, ready to meet my fate, I was thoroughly surprised when I was met with a pair of grey eyes rather than blue ones.

"They smell very good. Do you bake often?" Christian asks me. he picks one off of the pan without asking, and sticks it into his mouth. I'm not surprised he doesn't ask, I don't think a mogul like him has to ask for anything.

"Ow, shit, that's hot!" he exclaims as he spits it back out. I am surprised when I find myself giggling at his antics. I haven't laughed all month. Christian looks up, just as surprised as I am at my giggling. he looks astonished at first, but then soon starts chuckling along with me.

"Sorry, I should've warned you," I apologize.

"No, that's okay. No harm done. So, you are married to Mr. Mal? For how long?" Christian asks, his voice laced with an emotion I can't identify.

"Five years," I reply. I try to mask the bitterness in my voice as best as I can.

"Interesting. What's he like? Is he as charming as he seems?" he asks, genuinely interested. I want to tell him how He is an abusive prick, but I don't. I can't seem to tell anyone that. I don't know what to say, so the only thing I say is,

"Yes." It's not a lie. He _is_ charming, and right when He get's you hooked, He turns into the monster He has been all along.

"That's very... Nice. I wish you two all the best, and I'm looking forward to being a partner with HCS," he says funnily. he has that emotion back in his voice, and I rack my brain trying to figure out what it is. he smiles at me once more, and turns around to return to the dining room. he starts to walk off, but turns around again. he opens his mouth to speak, and I'm surprised by what he says.

"You should talk more, Anastasia. You have a lovely voice," he declares, and turns around to walk away.

* * *

_**How was that for a first chapter? I realllyyyyy hope you guys liked it. Also, I have a fun little game for you guys(: So, we know Ana's married name is "Mal." If one of you guys can tell me why that name is ironic, I will be thoroughly impressed with you ^.* Anywho, R and R!**_

_**Xoxo**_


	2. Dance With Me

_**Oh, hai! I didn't see ya there(; How are you guys doing? I just want to say thank you for reviewing and following, it means a lot! I got a lot of positive feedback and it was just truly amazing. You guys are the best! Also, a lot of you guessed right about Ana's last name. Good job! And I sent you a PM if you got it right(: So, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please keep giving feedback! I realllyyyyyy need some ideas about what to include in the next chapter. If you guys could give some suggestions I would love that! ^.***_

* * *

_"Mommy!" She squeals._

_I hear my name being called in a high pitched tone, and my stomach bubbles with joy. My little girl comes running from the patio, quickly making her way towards me. She is dressed in a yellow sundress, and it complements her complexion. Her brown hair is tied back in pig tails, making her look even more adorable than she normally does._

_I drop my bags just in time, as she launches herself into my arms. I squeeze her back lovingly, inhaling her scent. She smells heavenly._

_"How was your day, darling?" I ask. She pulls her head back from the crook of my neck to look at me, and her eyes light up. I know that look_, _soon she is going to go off on a very long and detailed retelling of her "adventurous" day._

_"It was amazing, Mommy! Daddy took me out on the boat, and I actually got to steer for a little while. Daddy said I was the best steerer he's ever seen!" She exclaims._

_I smile at her excitement, she is always so bubbly and joyful. I know she doesn't get it from me, so it's most likely from her aunt. The one on her father's side since I was an only child. Speaking of Father, I wonder where he is. I look around, and soon enough I find him._

_his skin is much tanner than it normally is, most likely from his day out on the boat. his eyes are shining, making his grey eyes seem metallic, and there is a crooked smile on his face. It takes my breath away, and the love I hold for this man could never be described in words._

_he starts to make his way over to us. When he reaches us, he gives me a passionate kiss, packed with all of his love._

_"Ew! No kissing!" Mariana says, her voice laced with embarrassment._

_She wiggles, signaling to be put down, and Christian and I laugh at her audaciousness. When she gets older, I have a feeling she won't think it's as gross as she previously thought. Christian turns to me and wraps his arms around my waist._

_"Hello, Mommy," he greets me._

_"Hello, Daddy," I reply back. I stare into his eyes, noticing all of the love evident in them. In that moment, I feel truly happy._

I wake up with a jolt. The room is pitch black, and for a few moments I feel disorientated.

_Where am I?_

Oh, right. I'm in the boughs of hell. I roll over and notice that the other side of the bed is empty. Hmm, that's peculiar. He almost always is right beside me when I wake up. I allow myself to feel a small amount of relief. I can finally have some alone time and not have to worry about doing something that will get me in trouble later. I roll back over and get into a comfortable position.

The sun isn't up, so it must be the wee hours of the morning. I know I should get back to sleep, but I can't bring myself to relax. My mind is buzzing, I can't seem to find out why I had such an outlandish dream. A dream about Christian Grey and mine's imaginary family.

The dream was... sweet. absolutely perfect. My heart pings a little as I realize that I'll never have a happy life like that. Ridiculously, I find myself wanting to cry. Tears sting my eyes, and I can't help but to feel pathetic. It's not fair. It's not fair that I'm stuck with some monster for the rest of my life. I'll probably die right here, right here in this bed.

Alone.

If He doesn't kill me first.

I push the tears away. I haven't cried in five years. I haven't cried when His fists were assaulting my body, I haven't cried when He was ripping my insides apart, and I haven't cried when His mouth spewed out things that tore my soul and self-esteem in two. I don't let anything push me to tears.

So why should I start now?

I decide to mull over the dream again, and I remember the little girl. She was beautiful, and she looked like me. My heart pings again, harder this time. I would've had a little girl..

But He took her away.

_"Don't go there!" _I tell myself.

I push the bad memory away, burying it back into the deep recesses of my mind where it belongs. She's gone, and she's not coming back. There's no point in obsessing over it anymore. I push and push and push, but the memory doesn't want to be ignored anymore. It wants to be let out. I try desperately to not think about it, but it all comes flashing back with a vengeance.

(FLASHBACK)

_He rips the stick out of my hand, throwing it behind Him where it lands on the floor with a thud. His face is red and veiny, contorted with rage. I'm scared. Very scared. I thought He would be happy. He's said to me before that He would love to have kids. What's changed? I don't think I've ever seen Him like this. It was 6 months after our wedding, it's not like we weren't ready._

_"You think I want your retarded children?!" He yells at me._

_I gasp at His harsh words. He's never said such cruel things to me, He's always been so sweet. I can't even recall Him ever chastising me. Not even once. And now... Now He's being so vile. What's wrong with Him?_

_He stalks towards me, His hands gripped into fists. As He gets closer, I instinctively back away. His eyes are wild, glazed with malice. He looks... crazy, and I find myself fearing for my safety. Why is He acting like this? Is having a child really that bad? As I keep inching away, I soon find myself trapped by the wall. My breath hitches, and my heart starts to speed up. Please don't let Him do anything stupid, I pray silently._

_"You listen to me, Anastasia. You will not be having ANY children. NONE! You're a complete disgrace, and bringing children in to the world would just mean having more dumbasses like you around. I'm not taking care of your godforsaken children!" He screams._

_His voice is dripping with venom, and He shoves me against the wall. I yelp in surprise. He's never layed a finger on me or said such belittling things. He shoves me again, and I feel the pain reverberate through my whole body. I let out another yelp, real panic starting to set in._

_He doesn't stop there, he continues, shoving me over and over. Just when I think it can't get any worse, He raises His hand to me. I don't think I felt the slap, I was too shocked. I never thought He would ever do something so vicious to me. The second one, however, I definitely felt. It stung, the pain lingering on my skin. I screamed, and raised my own hands to defend myself. This angered Him and He overpowered me, throwing me to the ground. He continued to slap, over and over. It wasn't long before He started adding punches. I had never been punched before. The pain was indescribable. He just kept going, unleashing all of His rage on to my body. I was absolutely terrified. This man who was assaulting me so brutally, that wasn't a man that I knew. It wasn't the man that I married._

_I was in agony. Confused by what was going on. I prayed, but no help came. I screamed and fought, but nothing helped. He stopped when He wanted to stop, and by then I had lost all track of time and sense. I lay there, battered, bloody and bruised. I was left to my thoughts, and there were three things I decided that night:_

_This man is crazy,_

_My baby's dead,_

_And I'll never cry again._

The memory shook me to the core, and I mentally chastised myself for remembering. I was supposed to push it away, and I didn't. My heart was hurting, mourning for the life that I had lost. I was supposed to protect it, and I didn't. I let her be taken away from me.

I let Him take my family away from me.

I'm so consumed in thought that it takes me a while to notice the tears streaming down my face.

So much for not crying.

He left about an hour ago. He always leaves for work an hour early, I don't know why. I don't ask, and even if I did He wouldn't answer me. He leaves me all alone in the house by myself. I could sneak out, but there's security cameras. I found out by experience, and it wasn't pretty when He punished me for it. I guess He doesn't want me to leave because He's afraid I'll leave him. Run away to my family. I've thought about it for almost every day for the past five years. I always pack my bags and get ready, but something holds me back. I could just leave, go stay with Kate or my parents. He couldn't stop me... but there's always this feeling deep down that He'll catch me. If He did I don't know what He would do.

Maybe He'd kill me.

I think about that often. Whether He'll kill me or not, I mean. I don't think He's that dumb. He has a great successful business. He has money, fame, everything that someone would want. I don't think He would throw it all away. He definitetly doesn't want to go to jail.

But He has a bad temper. He could kill me out of rage.

I've thought of that too. It's a very likely possibility. I guess I should be scared that maybe that would happen, but every time I think of it I can't find it in me to feel fear. Maybe if I just died, I wouldn't have to feel this pain. I could just sleep, and never have to deal with him hurting me. Or lying to everyone I care about. I wouldn't have to live such a sad existence. When I think about it, death doesn't seem so bad.

I can't stop thinking about Christian. I have read the same sentence over and over, while I read "Pride and Prejudice," because I simply can't get him out of my mind. he was very kind to me. It was peculiar, since I've read on the internet that he is usually a cold and calculating man. Critics have said he's not a nice person, but yet they contradict themselves by saying how much he donates to charity. I think it's lovely that he's so generous, and spreads his wealth around the world. I read that he's adopted, and maybe his life before was rough. Maybe that's why he tries to help as many people as he can.

I toss the book aside and decide to do something else to get my mind off of Christian. I walk downstairs and make my way towards the kitchen. I open the cookie jar and snack on one of the ones I made last night.

Mmm.

Delicious.

As I snack, I wander around the house, making my way from room to room. I've lived here for five years, but this place has never felt like home. It's cold and stark, a major contrast to the apartment I shared with Kate before I met Him. Our apartment was very warm, filled with everything that was sentimental to us. Everything in the house I live in now has no sentimental value to me at all. He made me throw all of my belongings away about 2 years after we had moved in. I still feel sad when I think about it.

I continue to meander, walking just to have something to do. As I'm circling the living room for the third time, I hear the phone ring. I'm not supposed to answer the phone when He's gone, but when I see the caller ID, I gasp in shock. Is this really happening? My heart speeds up in anticipation. I have to answer, I just can't help myself.

Christian Grey is calling my house.

I immediately pick up the phone, eager to talk to him; Even if it's just to tell him He isn't home.

"Hello?" I croak out. My voice is raspy and unfamiliar. I haven't talked since Christian left last night.

"Anastasia? How delightful to hear your voice this morning," he says, his velvety voice sounding smooth and sexy.

"Oh, yes, uh, Hello. Sorry, but He isn't home," I reply. I might as well answer him now since he was going to ask anyway.

"Who's He?"

"My... husband." I hate the word. He isn't worthy of such a title. He's not a husband, He's an abuser.

"Oh, I know. I'm with Him now. I called to ask you if you were going to attend my gala tonight, but Lucian wasn't sure if it was something you'd like to go to," he explained.

My heart has just bursted out of my chest. Did he just ask me if I wanted to go to a gala? A GALA?! I had never been to one before, and it was even more exciting for me since it had been forever since I had left the house. I was ecstatic, but soon my hopes were crushed. I know He wouldn't let me go.

"I would love to... but I don't think He would want me there," I expressed crestfallenly.

"Um, He as in your husband, right?"

"Right," I agreed.

"It's fine, Anastasia. I'll just convince him to allow you to go. A gala is an event that you wouldn't want to miss."

"Do you really think that you could convince Him?"

"Of course. I'm a very convincing man, Anastasia. I've got to run, but I look forward to seeing you tonight," He says, and then swiftly hangs up.

Did that really just happen, or did I wake up in the twilight zone? I can't believe I'm going to finally be leaving the house, and to a gala no less. I drop the phone and race upstairs to pick out a dress.

"I know what you're doing," He says hostily.

I continue to rummage through my closet, not ready to face Him. He got home about an hour ago, and I have spent all the time He's been away looking through my closet. I needed to have a perfect dress, and I couldn't seem to find it in my closet full of thousands of gowns. I know I'll have to acknowledge Him soon so He doesn't get angry, but right now I don't want to deal with His bullshit. I've been in an extremely good mood for most of the day, and I don't want Him to come in and ruin it like He always does. I decide to stop looking and leave the closet to go out and appease Him.

As I make my way through the room, I see Him standing by the bed, His one hand clenched in to a fist. His other one is clutching a glass filled with a brown liquid.

Scotch.

"You're twying to fuck up my buisnesssss deal," He slurs.

I have an extreme urge to roll my eyes, but He's stronger and easier to piss of when He's drunk, so I don't.

"You prance around in your r-red dress. Flashing your titss, trying to save all the attention for yourseelf, you whore! You w-want him to pay attention to you, and to ignore me! Now that you're going to thiss gala, you'll make a s-scene and mess everything up!" He roars, and throws the glass against the wall, getting liquid and glass shards all over the room.

I flinch unwillingly, my senses on high alert. I should've known that He wouldn't let me go without a fight. My insides sink, and I know I'm in for it. He starts stalking towards me, and with each step I can smell the strong stench of alcohol more prominently. He stops right in front of my face, and my nose crinkles at the odor. He grabs a hold of my chin forcefully, forcing me to remain eye contact with Him.

"Now you lissten y-you, little bitch! I'm not gonna do anything now, but you just wait until w-we get home tonight. Your ass is grass," He declares, his voice eerily calm. With that, he strides out of the room, leaving me alone and empty.

I decided to wear a sheer grey floor length dress. It looks magnificent, and I have to admit-somewhat bitterly-that He has great taste. I've hardly shopped for myself, but 95% of everything I own, I love.

I paired the dress with matching grey heels. I note that I'm wearing an awful lot of grey, and I hope it has nothing to do with Christian Grey. It seems like lately he's been influencing a lot of aspects in my life.

I don't know why he's had such an impact on me, but I kind of like it. I wonder what his life is like. Is he married? Does he have kids? A girlfriend? Fiance? I hope he doesn't. I don't understand why, but for some reason the idea unsettles me.

I look at my face. I decided to go for a natural look, with only a hint of mascara and a light pink blush. My lips are coated in clear lip gloss. I decided not to be too showy, because I don't want to upset Him and give Him a reason to think I'm vying for attention.

My hair is pin straight and frizz-free. I'm extremely impressed with myself for being able to accomplish that. For all of the 21 years I've been living, my hair has been out of control and all over the place; but today, it looks silky and smooth. I guess being locked in here with nothing to do has given me time to perfect my hair taming skills.

I smile at my reflection. Once again, I actually feel pretty. I shake my head, I've been smiling an awful lot lately. Much more than all of the five years I've been married to Him. I don't think anymore of it, but something deep down inside of me says it has something to do with Christian Grey.

The first step I took was overwhelming.I hadn't felt anything other than carpet under my feet for a long time. I wasn't used to the cement, it felt... foreign. I, however, soon got used to it. Very, very soon. The air was pure, not stuffy like it was in the penthouse. It had just rained, and the smell was still clear in the air. I inhaled a large breath, and basked in my surroundings. It almost moved me to tears. I had missed this.

Missed being normal.

A small smile crossed my face as I saw pedestrians walk up and down the block, going inside stores, crossing the street, talking to other people, talking on the phone. Everything just seemed... Ordinary. I definitely needed something ordinary to filter out all of the not-so ordinary events going on in my life. I started walking, but was quickly yanked back by Him. He grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me back.

"The car is over here," He spits out.

He drags me the opposite way, and we make our way to the car. He opens the door, throws me inside and quickly makes His way over to the drivers seat.

"Buckle up," He instructs.

I do as He says, then He starts the car and we set out on our journey to the gala.

I would never have guessed that the gala would be so extravagant. I knew that it would be beautiful and catered to the upper class, but I didn't know that it would be so... overwhelming. There were lights flashing every second, hundreds of people in the same proximity, and music blaring out of industrial sized speakers. It was so.. lively and crazy.

I loved it.

My heart was soaring, I felt so alive. I couldn't believe that this was really happening. I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. Right now I felt happy.

Very, very happy.

"Enjoy it while you can. When we get back you'll be lucky if I _**ever**_ let your ass out of the house again," He whispers in my ear. Chills run down my spine, and I gulp in trepidation.

I don't feel happy anymore.

I continue to take in my surroundings, trying to get my happy mood back. I look around, studying the people who have attended. They all look like wealthy, upper class citizens. I feel self conscious all of a sudden, not sure how to act around them. I haven't talked to any of His rich friends, and before I met Him I was just a middle class, ordinary girl. I don't think it matters if I don't know how to speak or act, I doubt He'll let me interact with them anyway.

I feel eyes on my back, and I turn around to be met with the most beautiful grey eyes I've ever seen.

Christian.

A smile graces my face, and I can't help it. Something about him makes me happy and I don't know why. he smiles back at me, and his answering grin is flawless.

"Hello, Anastasia. Lucian. It's a pleasure to see you all this evening," he says in his velvety voice. he bends down to kiss my cheek, and my skin blushes fiercely as soon as his lips make contact. Did he just kiss me?

I think he just kissed me.

It's the most gentle and intimate gesture I've had directed towards me in a long time, and I find myself smiling again. Jeez, how many times have I smiled today?

"Come on, I'll show you two around and introduce you to my family."

The Grey's are lovely people. Grace is very warm and kind, Carrick is polite and generous, Elliot is funny and welcoming, and Mia-my favorite-is extremely joyful and hospitable. For the short amount of time that I had known them, they had already welcomed me and treated me as if I were family. I felt cared about, and my happy mood was set back in place, with also just a twinge of sadness mixed in. It made me think of my own family and how much I missed them.

As we sat at the table, sipping wine and conversing, (I hadn't had an alcohol beverage in years!), the MC interrupted us with an announcement.

"Ladies and Gentleman, the annual First Dance Auction will be taking place in ten minutes," he says excitedly, and the crowd of people applaud.

First Dance Auction, what's that? I ponder over it, when suddenly Mia grabs my arm, beckoning me to stand up.

"Ana, come on. We have to go," She says hurriedly.

"Go where?" I ask. I'm not sure where she's going with this, it's not like I entered any auction.

"I signed you up an hour ago," She answers.

My eyes go wide and I'm completely shocked. I don't know how He's going to take that. He doesn't want me to participate in anything. The whole time I have been talking to the Grey's, He was getting more pissed off every second.

Tonight is not going to be pretty.

"Mia.. I-I don't know," I stammer.

"Oh, Ana you should go, sweetheart. It'll be fun," Grace coaxes. Mia nods her head in agreement. I look back and forth from both women, and I make a decision.

"You know what? Sure, let's go," I decide. I think I've had a little too much wine, but what the hell? You only live once right?

_"You'll be lucky if you live to see tomorrow,"_ my subconscious whispers.

Three girls have gone already, and I'm next in line. My ears are buzzing with excitement and fear. I've never done anything like this before, and what if no one bids? Gosh, that would be so embarrassing. I don't think I'm very high up on the attractiveness ladder, and I don't think any man-or woman-would bid a high amount of money for me. I'll be lucky if I can even make $1,000.

"Next up we have the lovely, Anastasia Mal. She speaks Spanish, French, and Japanese fluently, has a black belt in Tai Kwon Do, and enjoys doing yoga in her free time. Get a load of this feisty woman, fellas!" he yells.

I shake my head, who wrote these things? Everything he said was a complete crock of bullshit. I find myself smiling at it. I can hardly make a sentence in Spanish.

I walk out on to the stage, and am pleased with myself for not stumbling and landing on my face. I try to stand as tall as I can and look relaxed, but I'm inwardly panicking. I really hope I don't make a fool of myself.

"1,000," A red-haired man says. My heart leaps out of my throat. Oh, gosh, did someone seriously bid on me?

"1,500," Another man yells. Hmm, well at least I made it past the 1,000 dollar mark. I know I'm going to be sold right now. Who would pay any higher for me?

"2,500."

"3,000."

I can't believe it. Ha! I'm worth 3,000 dollars! I inwardly gloat, and look over at Him. His face is pinched with annoyance, and I have a serious urge to flip him off. I don't though, it would just cause a scene. I also feel somewhat angry. My own _husband _won't even make a bid.

"10,000 dollars," A velvety voice rings out loud and clear. I gasp in shock. I know that voice. Everyone turns around to look, and there Christian is, smiling smugly. he looks extremely pleased with himself.

"10,000 dollars for the lovely Anastasia Mal! Going once... going twice... and sold!" The MC yells out triumphantly.

My stomach has just dropped out of my ass. Did he..? Am I going crazy? A greek god just payed 10,000 dollars for an ugly duckling like me? Surely this is some sort of joke.

Christian walks up to the stage to collect his prize. he smiles amusingly at me, and kisses my hand before we make our way off the stage to the tents exit.

"Christian, really you didn't have to-"

"Oh, yes, Anastasia, I did. Any man would be lucky to share a dance with you, and I wanted to be that lucky man," he says smoothly, gliding his hand around my waist.

My breath hitches and I blush furiously. Oh, my. his hand feels absolutely wonderful around my waist. I smile meekly. I really just want to get this dance over with so I don't do something embarrassing. I notice that we have passed the dance floor where all the other couples are dancing, and I'm confused as to where we are going.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"There's something I want to show you," he replies.

"What is it?"

"Just wait and see."

"It's beautiful," I say breathlessly. I look ahead at the lake, as it twinkles in the moonlight. I stare into the water, my face distorted as the lake ripples slightly. It's magnificent.

"Why did you want to bring me here?" I ponder. It was a nice gesture, but I just wonder why he is being so... nice to me. I don't think I did anything to deserve it.

"I just wanted to see you smile," he murmurs.

his eyes are forceful as they bore into mine. It looks like he's searching for something. The gaze is so intense that I have to look away. I continue to stare at the water, captivated by it's beauty. The water is pure and blue, not polluted in the slightest. I have to marvel at it; most water sources have some amount of defilement nowadays.

"There's something about you that I can't figure out," he mutters.

he's talking more to himself than he's talking to me. I look at him, really look at him. I search into his eyes, study and analyze the planes of his face. I study his body language and try to make sense of him. he's an unusual creature, but then I understand. I understand why I feel drawn to him.

"You're sad... You're sad like I am," I blurt out.

I don't know why I said that. he's a billionaire with a loving family and successful business. he has no reason to be sad, but there's something inside of me saying that he is. he looks at me with that some forceful look. he stays quiet for awhile, not replying to my statement. he continues to look at me, and I continue to look at him. We stare at each other, having some weird unspoken connection.

"I am sad. I really am," he says so low that I could barely catch it.

he turns away from me, strolling over to another side of the lake. he picks up some rocks and starts skipping them. his face looks crumpled, his eyes bashful and sad. It breaks my heart, and somewhat disturbs me, to see a man so strong and powerful look so weak and broken. I make my way over to him and gently tug on his arm, beckoning him to stop and look at me. he does so, a little reluctantly albeit. I look up at him, and say the only thing that comes to my mind.

"Can we have that dance now?"

he nods his head, his face still crumpled and sad. he envelopes his hands around my waist, and I wrap my arms around his neck. I gently place my head on his shoulder and we start to sway back and forth to an imaginary song.

I can't describe the feeling, but I have this ache in my chest. It's not painful, it actually feels quite nice. My stomach is also filled with butterflies, flurrying back and forth in my stomach. I sigh, and allow myself to feel safe and content, if only for a few minutes. I can't remember back to when I actually felt safe in a mans arms. The only thing I feel in His arms are fear and disgust.

But not with Christian.

I feel happy with him, even though I've only known him for two short days. These two days have been some of the happiest I've had all year. I close my eyes and let the feel of him encompass me.

"Ahem."

My eyes snap open and I launch myself out of Christians embrace. I turn around and am met with stormy blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grey, but Ana and I have to leave," He says.

He doesn't allow for any words to be said before He's grabbing my arm and pulling me along. His grip is tight and painful as He tugs me away from Christian. I know that I'm in trouble... big, big trouble. We are moving quickly, and I take one lasting look at Christian before I am hauled off back to the penthouse. Christians face is pinched with befuddlement, but he still looks beautiful.

_Goodbye, Christian. Wish me luck._

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**_How was that? Hot or not? I would love your feedback, so please review and leave suggestions.(: You guys are great! Love ya!_**

**_Xoxo_**

**_P.S: I said "He" wouldn't have a name, but what the hell, I might as well give him one. His name is Lucian. Blahh, doesn't that sound so evil? LOL._**


	3. Inner Turmoil

_**MUST READ: Hey, guys! Once again, I have to say you all are the best! Thank you so much for reviewing and following. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Also, I had a little typo in the last chapter. I said Ana was 21, but she is supposed to be 26. She met Him in college, but that's another story to tell. Anywho, this chapter is just a little filler. It's in Christian's POV, and it's just his thoughts on Ana. It's been a week since they've had any sort of contact. It's not very special, but it helps move the story along and I wanted to publish a little something something so you guys wouldn't have to wait too long. I hope you guys enjoy it!(:**_

_**Xoxo**_

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**CHRISTIAN POV**

I wonder about her sometimes. My mind will unintentionally wander throughout the day, and I'll find myself thinking about her. I'll be sitting in a business meeting, thinking about her. I'll be signing contracts, thinking about her. I'll be working out with Claude, thinking about her. I'll have a session with Flynn, and I'll still be thinking about her.

I want to know more about her. She's interesting. Mysterious. I'm usually quite good at figuring people out, getting under their skin.

But not with her.

She is like an enigma, something I've never stumbled upon before. I find myself thinking about her peculiar personality. She's quiet, but something tells me she hasn't always been that way. Something deep down inside of me tells me that she used to be someone who was outgoing, fearless. But, hell. What do I know? I could be wrong, I've only known her for a short amount of time.

That's the point though. I haven't known her for too long, but there's something drawing me to her. Of course it could be her beauty. She's stunning, and everything about her evokes a fire inside of me. I lust after her. Plain and simple; but that's not it. Something else is telling me to be with her. Learn more about her. There's these green lights flashing in my head telling me, _Go! Go find her! She needs you._

It's ridiculous. No one would ever need me. It baffles me as to why I would think she would need someone as screwed up as me in her life. Twenty four years of therapy, and I'm still as fucked up as I was when Grace found me. I might be successful, rich, good-looking, but that doesn't make me a good person. It doesn't make me healthy, and it doesn't make me like myself. I've never liked myself. I haven't done anything good for my family except bring them heartache, and I enjoy beating brown-haired girls.

So, no. I really don't think Anastasia would need me.

It won't stop my crazy mind from disagreeing, though. My body is thrumming, wired with longing. It wants me to go after her. It's pulling me in her direction, but I'm not going to do that. She's married. She hasn't asked me for anything, she hasn't shown any interest. So why would I barge into her life?

_Because you're Christian Grey. You're a nosey son-of-a-bitch._

I am nosey. Not going to lie. But I'm trying to work on getting better. I'm thirty two. It's time I stop being the asshole I used to be.

_Or, you could be an asshole for one last time and figure out what's going on with her._

I could do that too. Perhaps she's important, maybe there's something that she could offer me. I can always sniff out a business deal that with make me a lot of money in the long run, so maybe that's what it is. She has something that she could give me, and I have something to give her.

I just don't know what it is yet.

I look over at my clock, it's 12:30 AM. I've been lying in bed, having some inner turmoil with myself over her. It's too late to do something about it now. I'm most likely the only idiot in Seattle who's still up fighting his inner conflict. I'll do something about it tomorrow. I'm absoluetly sure of it.

I just hope I won't be too late.

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_**Did ya like it? I hope you did. Does anyone want to see any more chapters in Christian's POV? Thanks for reading and please review!**_

_**Xoxo**_


	4. I Know You Want To Kiss Me

_**Just call me a crackhead, because I'm addicted to this story! It's nearly eleven o'clock and I'm updating a new chapter. I've been working on it for like.. 5 hours. I hope all the hard work paid off and you guys love the chapter! Also, my mom said something to me to make me paranoid. She said someone could take my work and steal it and claim it as their own. 0_0 I didn't know people did that with fanfiction, so I'm here to say, this is my original work and "Howls at the Window©" belongs to me(:**_

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He's completely calm. He hasn't said anything or made any move to hurt me. His face doesn't even show any signs of how He's feeling. It just blank. Completely impassive. I don't know what to think of it. Maybe I should be extra worried. Maybe He's so angry to the point of Him being calm. Is that even possible? I don't know, but I'm extremely confused. By now I would've expected some sort of outburst, but there's nothing. He just keeps his eyes on the road while He drives at a moderate speed. Even that's unusual. There isn't a time when He's not speeding.

I take a deep breath and turn to look out the window. I stare up at the stars, noting how bright and beautiful they look tonight. The picture is completely opposite of how I'm feeling inside. I know that He's not going to just let this go. He gets angry at the smallest things, of course He's going to have something to say about this. I just don't understand why He's so calm... He even looks sort of happy. I shiver, I have a feeling that something really bad is going to happen.

I continue to look out the window, the streets racing past us. I intake all of my surroundings, happy that I got to be out here, only if it was for a couple hours. I wish I could've seen my family, though. I miss them. I sigh and close my eyes. I listen to the steady hum of the car, and try to push down the creeping sense of dread rising in my stomach.

He shuts the door. He then takes off his shoes and hangs up his coat. He starts to undo his cufflinks and tie, depositing everything on to the floor. I sat in the middle of the room, not sure what to do with myself. I don't want to leave, for I haven't been given permission, and I don't know whether I should speak to Him. That might annoy Him, so I stand there, waiting for Him to do something.

He finishes stripping, and is soon left with only his trousers and dresshirt on. Finally, He looks up at me, His eyes alight with mischief. I know that look. He has something planned. I know it must be horrible.

"Remember when you did something as horrible as this, Ana? Do you remember what I did?" He asks.

His voice is eerily calm, and His eyes are filled with anticipation. He wants me to remember something, but I don't know what He's talking about.

"You don't remember, do you? I guess I'll just have to refresh your memory," He spits out, His voice finally revealing how angry He really is. His eyes turn stormy blue, and he roughly grabs my arm. He starts dragging me down the hallway, and suddenly I know what's happening.

The Room.

He's taking me to the Room.

I let out a terrified shriek, and struggle to pull out of his grasp. My efforts are futile since His grip is so strong. He ignores my protests and continues to pull me along.

He can't take me to the Room! He just can't! I continue to scream, struggling with all my might to get away from Him. I try twisting His arm, but He merely shrugs me off and tells me to shut up. I don't listen, however, because I can't go in there. I remember the last time and I'll do anything not to go back in there.

I start pounding on His chest, scratching and biting, doing everything I can to escape. He only laughs at me and shrugs off my advances. We make our way down the hall, and quickly turn the corner. He resumes dragging me further into the hall, and before I know it we're in front of the last door at the end of the corridor.

There it sits: ominous and bleak. There are no other rooms by it, it's all alone and at the back of the penthouse. He takes out the key from His pants pocket, and swiftly unlocks the door. A gut-wrenching scream erupts from my throat. Just looking at it evokes so much fear into me. My mind and body is coated with trepidation.

"Please! Please just hit me!" I beg.

He can't put me in there. Not like last time. Please not like last time.

"No, sweetheart. That would be too easy," He says before throwing me into the confinement.

I land on my side, my arm throbbing and stinging from the impact. He takes one last moment to smile cruelly at me before He closes the door.

"Sweet dreams, my love," He says mercilessly and shuts the door. He puts the key into the lock and turns it, effectively locking me in this pitch black room.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, stay calm...

I tell myself over and over again, but I can feel the panic making it's way up spine. I try to breathe, but every moment it's getting harder to.

Stop it, Ana. You're going to be fine. Nothing's going to happen..

I breathe in and out, but soon my breath hitches. My heart starts to pound and a bead of sweat rolls down my forehead.

Don't do this, Ana.

My hands begin to tremble and I let out a small whimper. The panic is setting in, threatening to engulf my whole body. I start to hyperventilate and I know it won't be long before I completely lose it.

It's just a room, Ana. You're fine!

I claw at my throat, trying to get in air to my lungs, but I soon find myself not able to breathe. My hands are trembling faster now, and the whimper that I had emmited has become more urgent. I crawl around, trying to navigate in the dark surroundings, but I'm only met with wall. I feel around, and there is wall completely engulfing me. I barely have enough room to spread my arms out. Another whimper escapes my throat.

Easy, Ana. Calm down.

I move forward, towards the door and pull on the knob. I don't know why-I know it's useless. He's locked me in. I'm locked in here until He lets me out.

I'm locked in this small dark room.

..small dark room

..small dark room

..small dark room

I scream, unleashing all of my terror into that one sound. I raise my fists to pound on the door, willing it to open. I bang and bang and bang, desperately trying to get out of here. My screams bounce off the walls, sounding foreign to even my own ears. They sound gutteral, only a sound a truly petrified person could make. I continue to hit the door, even adding a few kicks in there. I can't focus anymore, the only thing I can think of is getting out of here. Getting out of this space so I can breathe. I need to breathe. I can't breathe!

I've been claustrophobic since I was five. I remember me and Kate were playing hide and seek, and I had decided to hide in the closet. I don't know why, of course that would be the first place she would look. I don't remember quite why I chose that hiding space, but I did. My body was thrumming with anticipation, waiting for Kate to be done counting so she could come look for me. Soon enough, she was. Kate made her way in to my room, and I covered my mouth so I wouldn't make any sounds. She looked under the bed, behind the door, under chairs, and it wasn't long before there was only one more place to look.

The closet.

She crept towards it, and I had to hold back the giggles that were threatening to come out. I knew should would probably find me, but what she did next I was not prepared for. She grabbed the latch that was attached to my closet door and twisted it.

She locked me in.

Kate erupted in giggles and ran off in the other direction, leaving me trapped with no where to go. I screamed, banging on the door, pleading with her to let me out. I don't know why I was so afraid, but being in there was torture for me. I couldn't breathe and I felt like every second I was in there a little part of me died. I had never been so afraid in my life, and I never wanted to be somewhere else so much in my life. I cried, tears streaming down my face. I hadn't been in there very long before Kate came running back in, hurriedly unlocking the closet. I tumbled out, grateful to be in open space again.

"I'm so, so sorry, Ana." She had said to me, but I wasn't acknowledging her words. The only thing I was acknowledging was how good it felt to be let out of that small space.

Ever since then I could never stand to be in small confinements. He knew that. He knew how much it tortured me. I didn't know how long He would leave me in here. Last time He left me in here for a whole day. Every single hour was complete torture. For some reason, I had a feeling that I would be left in here for even longer.

A week later...

Ring! RIng! Ring!

I groaned and opened my eyes. Goddamnit who was calling me? I just fell asleep! I rolled over and looked and my bedside clock. It was 2 AM! What goon would have the nerve to call me at this hour?! Whoever was on the phone better have a damn good reason why they're bothering me.

I languidly got out of bed, sauntering over to where my cell phone was hidden in my back pocket. I snatched it out of my dress pants and quickly answered.

"What?" I barked out harshly. I know I said I was trying not to be as much as an asshole as I used to be, but hey, it was 2 AM. I had a right to be cranky.

"Oh, uh, C-christian, it's a-a Ana," She stuttered. Her voice was small and scared and I instantly became alert.

Anastasia? How did she get my number? I made a vow to meet up with her in the morning, but of course she would beat me to it. I wondered what was going on with her-she sounded terrified. I also wondered why she was calling me. We weren't really close-we had only known each other for barely two weeks, but she felt the need to call me when she was in trouble, which I assumed she was. If she wasn't she wouldn't sound so shaken.

"Anastasia, are you okay?" I asked, my voice laced with concern. I vaguely wondered why I was so worried. I care about everyone's well-being, but for some reason I seemed to care more than I should.

"Y-yes. I-i just.. A... could you meet me?"

"What?"

She wanted me to meet her at 2 AM? What the hell could be the reason for that? If there was something going on I could get my team to go out and help her, but why would she want to meet up at this time? Something was extremely strange about this.

"N-nevermind. I'm sorry. I-i ... I don't know why I bothered you. I-i.. I'll just leave you alone," She sputtered out.

What the fuck is going on? I am so confused right now, but I'm not going to let her go without getting some answers. I also just can't abandon her when she sounds so troubled.

"No! It's fine. Where do you want to meet up?"

I'm sitting under some cheap flourescent lights that keep flickering. The diner is cold and empty, the only sounds coming from the jukebox playing an old 70's song. The waitress looks at me, no doubt wondering why I'm sitting alone at 2 AM. I won't be alone for too long, though. Christian will be joining me.

I don't know why I called him. The first person I should've called were my parents. It's been too long since I've been in contact with them. Hell, I should've called Kate before I called Christian, but for some reason I found myself going through His paperwork to get Christians number.

He was gone.

He just left. He said he would be back in a two days and to not do anything stupid.

Like hell I wouldn't.

I had been locked in that room for three days.

Three fucking days.

If He expected me to not go out and get some air, He was wrong. I knew that I only had two days to be with everyone I loved before I was hauled back to that dungeon, but it was good enough for me. I know I didn't have to ever go back there now. I could go to my parents, tell me them everything. They could protect me, throw Him in jail so He could never hurt me or anyone else again... But I just couldn't do it.

What would they think of me when I told them? I know they would hate me. They would be disgusted. I had let it go on for so long. I had let Him take my baby. They would be so disappointed in me... I know they would look at me differently. I just couldn't allow that to happen. I couldn't let them know because it would ruin everything.

Kate would react the same way. Even worse for her. She's so strong and independent, and she would look down on me so much for being weak and spineless. She would wonder why I let it happen, and she would be disgusted with how I never did anything to fight back.

She would hate me.

They all would.

That's why I couldn't let them know. And even if I did, maybe He would come after me. Maybe He would kill me for telling them and ruining His life. That's why it's better if no one knows. My situation isn't going to get better, and I can't let it get any worse. I just need to focus on surviving.

While I was engaged in my inner monologue, I didn't notice Christian had walked into the diner. he looked rugged, his face sporting a very defined 5 o'clock shadow, his hair tousled and sticking up in all places, and his eyes were red-most likely from lack of sleep. I felt bad for waking him, and once again wondered why I had called him of all people.

he still looked beautiful though.

I smoothed down my hair and rearranged my jacket. I didn't look in the mirror before I left, I just got out as soon as I could. I hoped I didn't look ridiculous.

Christian spotted me and soon made his way over to the table. he gave me a tired smile and scooted into the booth, sitting across from me.

"Hi," I said, my voice small and shy. My voice was just starting to get back to normal. Screaming for three days straight while I was locked in that room really took a toll on my vocal cords.

"Hello," he replied in his velvety voice. It instantly relaxed me.

I know I needed to give him an explanation, and also show my gratitude for him coming all the way out here. he did it without protest and I was extremely grateful, even though I don't know why I called him in the first place.

"I'm sorry fo-" I started, but was soon cut off by Christian.

"Are you hungry? Do you want anything to drink?" he asked.

his eyes were scanning over the menu that was layed out in front of him. As I thought about it, I was actually famished _and_ parched. I hadn't really been worrying about food or drink this past week. I was too absorbed with all the other shit going on in my life.

"Actually... yes. I think I'll have some tea and pancakes."

Mmm, that sounded so good. he nodded his head and waved the waitress over. She took our order, and soon made her way back to the kitchen to put the order in. As I twirled my fingers, wondering about what I would say, I remembered that I didn't bring much money with me and the money I _did_ bring was spent on cab fare.

"Oh, gosh! I don't have any money," I exclaimed.

"That's okay, it's all on me," he replies back smoothly.

"Oh, no. Please, I already dragged you out here, I don't want to use your money too."

"Believe me, it's fine, Anastasia. I'm just curious why you called me and asked me to meet you here."

Ha. I was wondering the same thing.

"I'm not actually sure myself. I... My husband is going to be gone for 2 days. I just.. wanted to get out for a little while. He left a couple of hours ago and I just.. I... I don't know. I was just.. drawn to you. Something was telling me to call you.

My cheeks are red hot and my body is humming with embarrassment. I can't believe I just said all of that. I know he must think I'm so weirdo who is fawning over him. I can't blame him, that's exactly what I'm acting like. I stare at him, waiting for his reaction. he's frowning and his eyes are boring into mine. his eyebrows are furrowed, and it looks like he's trying to figure something out.

"That's... weird. I feel the exact same way.."

I'm shocked by his reply. he feels drawn to me too? I wonder why. I know that we're both sad, maybe we're supposed to heal each other. I shake my head, what a ridiculous thought. he looks at me and opens his mouth to say something.

"I was going to call you in the morning. You beat me to that, though," he says and we both chuckle.

"Yes, I suppose I did."

"Where has your husband gone to?" he asks, and I wish I could answer him. It's too bad I don't know the answer either.

"Something work related," I say, because that's probably the closest thing to the truth.

he nods his head and says no more on the matter. The waitress comes out and places our plates in front of us. They're steaming hot, and my mouth waters in response to the heavenly scent. I can't believe how hungry I am. I have never been a very big eater, but I feel like I could devour a whole elephant.

As soon as she leaves, I dig in to my food, eagerly lapping up everything on the plate. I eat with extreme enthusiasm, not stopping to make conversation with Christian, or even to breathe. I just eat, relishing in the taste of the pancakes.

I pause to look up, and I notice that Christian isn't eating. he's looking at me with amusement and confusion. he hasn't touched anything on his plate, but I'm already 75% done with mine. I realize how barbaric I must look, and put my fork and knife down. My cheeks flush and I chastise myself for being so unlady like.

"I'm... so sorry. I normally don't eat with this much enthusiasm... I've just been kind of hungry lately," I murmur and laugh nervously.

he nods his head and smiles back reassuringly.

"It's fine. I appreciate a woman that eats."

My sides are burning, tears are running down my face, and I can hardly breathe. Christian is still doing his impression of David Bowie and I'm not sure how much I can take. I haven't laughed this hard in... well, forever. I didn't expect Christian to be the comical type, but I guess I was wrong.

he finally ends his impersonation, and my laughs die down. I wipe my eyes and smile up at him. I feel so... good. Maybe this is why I was drawn to him. he somehow makes things better. I look up at Christian once more, and he's smiling down at me with this weird expression.

"What's wrong," I ask.

"Nothing... I was just looking at you. You have a lovely smile."

I blush a light pink and smile in response to his words. I hope he actually means it and is not just saying to to make me feel better. I don't really consider myself a stunner.

"Thank you," I whisper shyly. he's so nice to me. I wonder why.

"You're welcome... You know I'm still trying to figure you out. There's something about you that I haven't... I haven't seen in anyone else. It's driving me crazy trying to find out what it is," he confesses.

I'm surprised by his admission. Does he really think I'm special? I know those weren't his exact words, but that's basically what he's saying... I think. I realize that there's something about him too.

he's special too.

"Why are you sad?" I blurt out.

I'm not sure what evoked me to say that, but the words just tumbled out of my mouth. his head snaps up, and his eyes are pained like they were the night of the gala. I curse myself for being so insensitive. Most people aren't thrilled at the idea of talking about their pain. I feel bad for asking him, and was just about to apologize when he opens his mouth to reply.

"I've had... a rough life, Ana. It's been hard for me.. to get over it. I'm still not fully over it," he whispers.

his face is crumpled and he looks utterly broken. I reach over the table and envelop my hand in his. I squeeze his hand, letting him know that I understand. I understand more than he knows.

he looks up at me, his face showing a silent sign of gratitude. he squeezes my hand back, and we remain like that. Hand in hand and looking into each other's eyes.

"Thank you so much for being with me. I know I called at a bad time so thank you so much for coming out and being with me," I expressed.

I had so much... fun tonight. I felt alive and happy, something that I'm not used to anymore.

"Anytime, Ana," he responded.

I turned towards him, not sure what to do now. Do we shake hands? Hug? I'm not really sure where we stand. Are we even friends? I don't want to invade his private space or embarrass myself, so I smile one last time and then turn to open the car door.

"Ana-wait," he calls out.

he grabs my arm and stops me from opening the door. he envelopes me in a hug, and I relish in his scent and warmth. his body is firm and comforting, and I wrap my arms around him, hugging him back. I don't know how long we stayed like that, and it didn't matter either. The only thing I cared about was how nice it felt in his arms.

Soon, we detached ourselves from each other. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. I stared into his grey orbs and soon got lost in them. They were so beautiful, hypnotizing almost.

I don't know what got in to me, but the next thing I know my lips were moving up to meet his. My lips crashed in to his, and the feeling was divine. his lips were soft and sweet, and the feeling sent warm tingles down my spine. My arms moved to wrap around his neck and he pulled me closer, crushing me to his torso. his hand wrapped around my waist, while the other was tangled in my hair.

Oh, God.

What was I doing?

I lurched away from him, moving myself out of his arms. I can't believe I did that. I'm married, for christ sakes. I shook my head, this was so wrong. I couldn't do this, and I couldn't do this to Christian either. Christian was His business partner, I doubt kissing His wife was good for the business. I was so frustrated and embarrassed with myself. Jeez, did I not have any self control? I needed to apologize, and now.

"Christian... I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean-"

"Ana... don't be sorry," he says before crushing his lips to mine once more.

* * *

_**Did ya love it? I hope ya loved it(: Oh, I didn't proofread this because it's so late at night, so I apologize for any mistakes:( I hope you can excuse my laziness. Anyway, R and R because ya know I love it! Thanks for being so supportive guys, I really appreciate it and I love you all(:**_

_**Xoxo**_


	5. Coffee? No thanks

_**Hai! (: I'm sorry it's been so long, It's just that I've been on vacation. I've been soooo busy this past week it's not even funny. And to top it off, I've been hit with writers funk! It's almost like writers block, except that you know what you want to write, but every time you do, the finished product is terrible. Yeah, my writing has been soo off. I worked on this chapter for three days and it STILL sucks. I'm sorry guys, but try to enjoy this chapter even though I'm not proud of it. I really wanted to update since It's been so long since I have. Enjoy! (Even though you won't...)**_

_**XOXO**_

* * *

I'm so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid. What am I doing? Do I have such low self-respect that I just throw myself at any man who's nice to me? I really can't believe that just happened. I've screwed up badly. Very, very badly.

I ran out of that car as soon as I could. I don't know why I kissed him. It was just something I couldn't control. It's like my body had a complete mind of it's own. I honestly think that was the most stupid thing I have done in a long time. (Apart from marrying that bastard I call my husband, of course.) What I'm more confused about is why he kissed me back. Yes, he was nice, but does he really feel something for me? I pulled away, but he pulled me back. Why? We've just met and I'm married. There should be no feelings between us at all.

The elevator pings and I quickly make my way inside the house. I take my shoes off and hang up my coat, leaving everything by the front entrance. I toss my keys onto the breakfast bar and saunter towards the bedroom.

I sigh; I feel exhausted. And guilty. I didn't say bye or give any sort of explanation... I just kind of... left. It was sort of rude. In my defense, I wasn't thinking rationally. I did something stupid spur of the moment, and then I panicked. I mean, what happened back there was... crazy, for lack of a better word. I should've just stayed in the house instead of asking him to meet me. Even as I think that, I know it's a lie. I wouldn't change this night for anything. Even though it ended horribly..

I collapse on the bed with a heavy thud. My feet and head are aching, but even with the pain I feel better than I have in a long time. It's a welcome feeling opposed to all of the sadness that I feel everyday.

I get under the covers fully dressed, not bothering to take off my clothes. The sheets are comforting for once, and as soon as I'm snuggled under the duvet I drift in to a deep slumber.

* * *

Ha! Deep slumber my ass. I fell asleep for about a half an hour before I had a dream about Christian that brought me out of my sleep. Since then, I have been up for 5 hours straight, obsessing over what happened last night. It keeps circling around in my head, taunting me. I feel guilty and stupid and ashamed, but also... excited. Giddy. And I feel even more guilty for feeling those things. Really, what was I thinking? Honestly, why would I do something like that?

Sunlight seeps through my window, and I know there's no possible way I'm getting any more sleep. It's already morning and I can never sleep in the morning. The sun is too bright and my body is always telling me to get out of bed and do something. So instead of trying to sleep, I allow myself to think about Christian some more.

I wonder if he's thinking about me. he's probably not. I'm acting like a teenager with some silly crush and it's getting ridiculous. I know that I should just forget about it, but I can't! The kiss was... spectacular. There's no other way to put it. I haven't felt such passion since before I got married to Him. He used to be an amazing person, alight with passion, and then... well He went off the deep end.

kissing Christian made me feel so alive. It made me happy. And it shouldn't have! It was a dumb thing to do. Regular people don't just kiss strangers.

_Regular people also don't get beat by their husbands._

I shouldn't feel this bad. I mean He's an asshole, it's not like He deserves for me to uphold my marriage vows-which He surely hasn't-but I still have morals, and as much of an abusive prick He is, I still feel... like a slut. Am I acting like a slut? Is this what sluts do?

I groan. My head is killing me from all of this overanalyzation. My feelings are so hot and cold. How can I regret what happened and feel bad about it, but then still enjoy it and be glad that it happened? I'm so confused.

_*Knock, Knock*_

Oh, God, who is that? I don't feel like getting up to get the door. My body feels like it has been run over twenty times by a freight train. I groan and slowly rise to a sitting position. My head is pounding and my body aches. Despite the pain I push through and saunter towards the front door.

Every step feels pained and heavy, but soon I make it to the door. I look through the peephole and when my eyes make contact with the person standing outside the door, the wind is knocked out of me.

I lurch back and try to steady my breathing. Why is he here? What the hell! I thought from last night with the way I reacted that he would've known that I don't want to see him again. he knocks the door again, and I'm brought of my reverie. Okay, I need to tell him that he can't be here. It's not good for either of us, and who knows what He'll do if He finds out that another man has been here while I was home alone...

_Oh, God._

_Security cameras!_

I lurch open the door and pull Christian inside.

"You need to go now!" I exclaim. My voice is wobbly and panicked as I try to get him to leave.

"Why? I just got here," he says, his voice confused and velvety.

_Oh, that voice. I could get lost in that voice..._

"I can't be seen with you.. especially after what happened last night."

"I know.. I came over here to talk about it. How about we go for coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee and I don't want to talk to you."

"You were drinking coffee last night.." he says matter-of-factly.

"Christian! Please, just go," I coax. his face drops and he looks abashed.

I instantly feel bad, but right now is not the time. This can't be happening. If He finds out Christian has been here, my ass is grass.

_But you owe him an explanation, Ana! You kissed him. It's your fault you're even in this situation!_

"Why are you trying to get rid of me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I did. Last night was stupid and I'm sorry that it happened. Really, just forget about it."

he shakes his head and his abashed face turns into a determined one. It looks kind of intimidating, and I can see why he's such a successful business man.

"I can't just forget it. It was... unforgettable. Don't you feel how I feel? I'm not leaving here until I get an answer."

his words peak my interest. How does he feel? If he feels anything like I feel, then he must be confused and guilty. Which most likely, he's not.

"How do you feel?" I ask.

I kick myself for engaging in more conversation instead of kicking him out, but I can't help myself for asking. I know I should get this over and done with, but maybe knowing how he feels with help me figure out how I feel.

"Get some coffee with me and I'll tell you," he says slyly.

his face is smug and he looks sickeningly pleased with himself for tricking me. Ha! If he thinks he's going to get me to go with him he has another thing coming. But I do want to know how he feels...

"Nope. No deal. Now it's time for you to leave."

I turn Christian around and push on his back, trying to direct him towards the front door, but he won't budge. Not even an inch. I continue to push with all my might, but his body stays forthright and still. Christian laughs at my failed attempts and turns around to capture my wrists in his hands.

"I told you, Ana; I'm not leaving until I have an answer."

his voice is low and calm, enunciating each syllable. his eyes bore into mine, and I realize how close we are. We are almost chest to chest, but my arms form a barrier between us, where my wrists are captured in his hands. My breathing becomes shallow and my heart rate speeds up. Christian doesn't look so sly anymore, and now, his eyes are filled with something entirely different. Something that almost resembles hunger...

I pull my wrists from his and turn around quickly. My body shouldn't react like that to him... it's... immoral.

"Sorry, it's not going to happen. Now leave," I say sternly. My tone, however, doesn't affect him.

"No, I deserve some answers!"

"There are none! Okay? Last night I was... going through something. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"But it did, you can't take that back. There's something else you're hiding."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he says forcefully. I shake my head, I'm so not in the mood to argue.

"Listen, I'm married. This whole ordeal is wrong, okay? I honestly just think we should stop talking to each other."

"Married people are supposed to be happy together. If you were happy you wouldn't have kissed me," he says through his teeth. he looks frustrated and angry.

"I am happy," I murmur unconvincingly. I sound pathetic and I know that he's noticed.

"You don't seem very happy. Hell, you told me the exact opposite last night. Just talk to me. That's all I want. I just want to know if you feel how I feel," he pleads.

Who would've thought that a business man who has everything, would be sitting here pleading with me?

"I'm sorry, but the only way you're getting me out of here is if you drag me," I assured.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I started to regret them. Christian quirked an eyebrow at me, and soon he held a mischievous grin on his face. he looked like the Cheshire cat.

"Is that a challenge, Anastasia?"

he stalks towards me, and I instinctively step back. his face is alight with excitement as he continues to move forward. I keep inching back, watching his every move. We look like a cat and mouse, circling each other, not sure of the others intentions. Obviously, Christian is the cat and I'm the mouse. We soon make our way into the living room, watching each other the whole time. he looks lean and ready to attack at any given moment. he gives one last sly grin before he lurches forward.

his hands graze my waist, but I quickly deflect his advance and end up behind him. his eyebrow quirks and his head is turned sideways. he looks surprised.

"Hmm, you're fast," he comments.

he starts his advance again, steadily making his way towards me. We move in the opposite direction, back towards the door. Instead of going straight, I veer to the right and run towards the kitchen. I place myself behind the breakfast bar, effectively making a barrier between us.

Christian smirks and stands still, deliberating which way to go. My heart is pounding with anticipation, waiting for his next move. In that moment, I realize I have a smile on my face and that I'm actually enjoying this little game. Curse that sneaky bastard for once again making me fall into his trap.

Out of nowhere, Christian swerves left and quickly makes his way behind the breakfast bar. I turn to run, but soon enough I feel his hands entrap my waist, holding me back.

"Gotcha," he whispers in my ear.

I try to claw his arms from around me, but he grabs both hands and encloses them in his embrace. I am deathly aware of every sound and sensation in this moment. I can feel his body heat emanating off of him, warming my back and arms. I can also feel his breath brush up against my hair. it smells like vanilla and peppermint. I can feel his heartbeat pounding, and him breathing heavy from the game we just played. My senses are wired, and my body is humming from being so close to him. I turn towards him, our faces extremely close and my body pressed tight against his. My breath hitches, and I try not to focus on how intimate this is. I'll make a deal with him. he'll give me something that I really want, and then I'll give him what he wants.

"Fine, do something for me, and I'll go out for coffee."

his face has a hint of doubt coating it. I stare up at him, willing him to believe me. he continues to look down at me, figuring out what to say next.

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

* * *

The box of tapes are sitting on my lap. With every moment of the car, they rattle, causing a discordant and irritating sound. I don't know how Christian managed to obtain the apartment security tapes. he even coerced them into shutting off the ones outside of my door permenately, which means I can leave the house whenever I want. Christian says I'll never have to worry about security again, and I briefly wonder how I'm going to explain that to Him.

"Are you ever going to tell me how you got these tapes?" I questioned.

"I have more power and authority than you can imagine, Ana. It wasn't hard to convince them," he admits.

I shake my head. Humph. How much power and authority can one man have? I mull over it and wonder what it must be like to be Christian Grey. I know it has to be amazing to be handsome, rich and successful. I've never been any of those things. My husband might be rich, but It's never really been my money. I never had to work for it, and a ping of disappointment rolls around in my belly. I went to college, but I've done really nothing with my life. I just sit around the house, cooking and cleaning. I feel like such a failure.

Ignoring my feelings of failure, I resume my task of thinking about Christian, which I've been doing a lot lately. he says he has lots of power, but doesn't great power require great responsibility? I wonder if he ever gets overwhelmed with all of the control he has, if it sometimes becomes too much. I don't know why, but the thought saddens me.

Speaking of sad, he says that he is, that his life has been hard. I know I can relate to that. I look over at him, and at first sight you would never notice how he's really feeling inside. he looks confident and calculating... Even a little bit arrogant. It's all an act though, because that's not how he feels. I have a suspicion that he feels exactly like me, but he's just good at hiding it. Good at burying his emotions. That thought also saddens me. Pain is even worse when you try to hide it.

"What's wrong?" he asks me. he looks over at me, his face questioning. "You've been looking at me for a long time."

"Just studying you, that's all," I reply, my voice light and uncaring.

he continues to look at me, his face looking for any evidence of something deeper. Soon, he gives up and goes back to looking at the road. I take the time to once again revel in the feeling of being outside. I still feel a little uncomfortable about being inside since I was locked in The Room for three days, so it's nice to be out here in endless space. I close my eyes and listen to the steady hum of the car. It's relaxing, and soon I slip into a deep state of dormancy.

* * *

"Hey, Ana... Wake up," I hear someone whisper gently.

I'm being rocked, my body moving harshly from side to side. I groan at the intrusion, wanting to be left alone. I finally got some sleep, and once again I'm being woken against my will.

I open my eyes, cringing at the abrasive light. Why the hell has Seattle been so bright recently? I'm really starting to miss the cloudy and bleak days that I've become accustomed to. I open my eyes again, slower this time, and as my eyes adjust I see grey orbs looking into mine intently.

My vision clears and I can finally see all of my surroundings. Christian is beside me, waiting patiently until I wake up. his face is etched with a hint of concern, but I ignore it. I look at where we are, and we're outside of the local coffee shop. My stomach roils in response to the smell. Gosh, I hate coffee.

I sit upright, getting out of the slumped over position that I was previously in, and turn to Christian once again. I stretch and yawn, waiting for him to say something.

"There's something weird about you," he whispers.

he shakes his head, which looks like to clear his mind of thoughts. he opens his car door, and before I get a chance, opens mine too. I smile and get out of the car, making my way towards the coffee shop. he once again strolls in front of me in order to open the door. I roll my eyes at his chivalry. he's too sweet for his own good.

"Where do you want to sit?"

"Anywhere you do, Sir," I declare sarcastically.

Christian makes a weird face before leading us over to a booth at the very back of the shop. I slide in across from him, and set my purse down next to me. We both make ourselves comfortable, and Christian asks me what I would like to drink.

"I don't drink coffee. I really just want to get this over with, so can you start talking, please?" I reply impatiently.

I feel kind of bad, there's no reason for me to be so bitchy. Christian ignores my bad mood and starts to talk.

"I asked you how you feel. Answer that for me."

"Honestly.. I don't know how I feel. I'm confused, guilty, happy... I'm feeling a myriad of emotions, Christian," I tell him honestly.

My face is flushed with embarrassment. I don't really like being open with emotions, especially not with him.

"Happy? Happy about what happened?"

"Yes," I admit.

What's the point of denying it? I'm sick of hiding secrets and hiding how I really feel. For once, I just want everything to come out. I just want to be truthful.

"And you feel guilty?"

"Yes, I have a husband and marriage vows to uphold. I don't want to be unfaithful."

"Why are you with Him? He's a complete asshole, Ana. I'm not saying it's wrong to feel guilty, but you shouldn't. Not over Him," he demands.

his face is hard and his lips pursed into a hard line. I know He's an asshole, but that's not the type of person that I am. I don't believe in screwing people over. And why does Christian think He's an asshole?

"Why do you think so low of Him?"

"I work with Him. He's an excellent business man, but He's a horrible person to be around. Very rude. I can only imagine what it's like to be with Him 24/7. Why do you stick around?"

"Well have you ever thought that maybe I love Him?" I spit out.

I feel a twinge of anger. How can he just barge into my life and think that he knows everything? What makes me even angrier is that he's right.

"You don't. I can tell," he answers.

he sounds so sure of himself and it kills me to know that he's right. How can he possibly already know that? We've just met. I feel slightly violated with how well he can read me. Or maybe I just make it obvious. It's not like we're very loving whenever we're around each other.

"I can't do this," I complain.

This conversation is treading in deep water and I don't like which direction it's taking.

"Wait! Just listen to me. Do you know what I felt last night? I felt... warm. And normal. Do you know how big that is for me? I've felt cold and alone and like a monster for my whole entire life, okay, Anastasia? For the first time I felt..." he trails off and looks down.

he shakes his head and looks defeated. No! he can't stop now. I want to hear the rest.

"Keep going... Please, I want to hear," I cajole softly.

he looks up and sighs. For awhile I thought he wasn't going to continue, but soon enough he's talking again.

"For the first time I felt... something for someone that wasn't family. I've never cared about romance or feelings.. but with you.. I felt something. I cared. There was a... spark. That's the only way I can describe it," he finishes.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper.

I don't know what else to say. I'm shocked. I didn't know he felt that way... and I'm still not sure how I feel. I felt... something too. But I don't know if it was real or if I've just been craving affection from a man instead of hatred and pain. I don't know if it's really something.. or if I'm just playing tricks on myself.

I look at him, and even now I feel something. The first 22 years of my life, I haven't felt something like this. For the five years I've been stuck with Him I haven't felt this way.

"I... felt something too. I just don't know if I can believe it," I divulge.

"What do you-" Christian starts, but is soon interrupted by an extremely loud and obnoxious voice.

"ANA?!" I hear, and both Christian and I turn our heads to see where the peculiar voice is coming from.

I look to my right and find a curvaceous blonde with an extremely wide grin on her face. My heart stops. Is this happening? This has to be happening.

"Kate," I whisper before I'm out of my seat running over to her.

* * *

_**Kate's back! Yay! Blah, so this chapter was all dialogue and no action -.- hopefully you guys can forgive me. Trust me, the next chapter is going to be great. I have so many twists and turns planned for next chapter. It should be up tomorrow(: anyway, tell me what you thought of this chapter. If you hated it, I don't blame you.**_

_**XOXO**_


	6. Just Friends

_**Firstly, I would just love to say I love you guys for dealing with my bullshit. I said that I would have a new chapter in a days time, and it's what... A week later? Hell, I don't even know. It's just that I went to New York to visit my grandma(: so I didn't really have any time to write. I'm so sorry guys! But basically, I like pooped this chapter out. I found it so hard to focus today. I spent 7 hours on this chapter because I honestly could not. Fucking. Focus. I'm sorry, I hope this chapter doesn't suck. Tell me whatcha think when you're done reading it!**_

_**XOXO**_

_**P.S: Ana's parents never got divorced**_

* * *

"Did you know Donna was pregnant?"

"What?! No! When was this?" I ask between sips of my English breakfast tea.

Kate and I are engrossed in a conversation about all of local gossip I've missed while I was "overseas." Kate still believes that that's where I was, and I was not about to tell her otherwise. I know I'll have to explain to Christian though, because he knows that my story doesn't match up. I told her I just got back yesterday, which of course that's obviously not true. Christian raised his eyebrows at my statement, but thankfully didn't say anything. I know he'll bring it back up later, though.

Kate was suspicious about how Christian and I knew each other, and we both agreed that we only knew each other through a business deal that Him and Christian have. Kate raised her eyebrows at that one, and that's another thing I'm going to have to explain, because I know she doesn't believe me. I'm the most unconvincing person ever, _I_ wouldn't even believe myself.

"Yup, she found out two weeks ago. God, I hope that baby looks nothing like Bill or it's going to be ugly for the rest of it's life," Kate mutters out.

We both erupt in giggles, while Christian sits adjacent from us looking very bored. he rolls his eyes at our rude joke and continues to type away on his blackberry. Kate and I, however, are laughing extremely hard. If only he knew what Bill looked like, then he would understand why this is so funny to us.

As I look at Kate, her tan skin glowing and her cheeks red from all of her laughing, I realize how much I've missed her. I've missed her smile and laugh and presence, but most of all, how happy she makes me. It feels so nice to have her around, that suddenly, I have a very pressing urge to cry. He has stripped my whole life away. He's taken my family and friends, my happiness and just all around has made me feel worthless.

I can't hold back anymore, and a silent tear runs down my face. I continue to laugh, making it seem like the tear is from laughing too hard. Only I know how I really feel inside, how tormented I feel in this moment.

I wipe the tear away and stop laughing. I reach across the table and grab Kate's hand, interlocking our fingers.

"Oh, Kate I've missed you so much," I exclaim, trying to hold back anymore tears from escaping.

Kate sobers up, and squeezes my hand, acknowledging that she's missed me too.

"Alright, Steele don't get mushy on me now," She says lightheartedly, but I see the intense emotion in her eyes.

Christian has been silent the whole time, grumbling unintelligible stuff to himself while Kate and I have been babbling away. Now, he's looking between the two of us, his expression slightly more understanding than before. he still looks annoyed, but is now realizing how close of a bond we have.

"Katherine, don't you have somewhere to be?" Christian asks, his tone cool and slightly harsh.

I can't understand why they don't like each other. As soon as Kate walked over to our table to join us, Christian became intensely irritated and rude. There must've been some altercation between them that I was not around to see. It boggles my mind how anyone could hate Kate. She's beautiful and funny.

And annoying.

And opinionated.

And nosey and overbearing and aggressive.

I shake my head at my thoughts. Yeah, Kate can have her faults, but I've been around her for so long I barely notice them anymore. Maybe they can't stand each other because they're so alike. Christian is all of those things and more.

"Oh, shit I do. I have to meet Elliot soon," she gasped, hurriedly packing up her things.

Christian smirks and looks satisfied that he's successfully gotten rid of her. I have the urge to slap that grin off of his face; does he know how long it's been since I've seen my best friend?

"Oh, Kate don't go! Tell Elliot you can't make it."

That's another thing I'm going to have to get used to. My best friend is dating my... Friends brother. Are Christian and I even friends? Associates? Acquaintances? Playmates? Friends with benefits? I halt my thoughts before they go somewhere I don't want them to. Christian and I are just peers, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less. I still think its weird that Kate is dating his brother.

"I can't, Steele. This is important. I'll call you late tonight, though. Maybe we could go to dinner with your parents?"

I contemplate her suggestion. It's not a bad idea. In fact, it's an excellent one. I can spend time with the three most important people in my life, and catch up with them. I smile and nod my head. That's perfect!

"Okay, just call me with details. Laters, baby!" She yells over her shoulder before she's out the door and running to her car.

Laters, baby? Where the hell did she get that one? I chuckle at her ridiculous phrase and watch her car zoom down the street. I should probably call my parents and tell them about the plans for tonight. I get my phone out of my purse, but am interrupted with a warm hand on my forearm.

"Can we finally talk, now?" he asks, his voice whiny and impatient.

I roll my eyes and put my phone away. I turn to face him so we can get this over with.

"Just be quick. I really need to call my parents."

My hands were itching to dig back into my purse and dial their numbers. I could hardly wait until I see them again, and knowing it was so close was driving me crazy. Right now, whatever he had to say just didn't feel as important as talking to my family did.

"You actually never got to finish what you were saying. You mentioned about you feeling something...?"

Oh.

That.

I have no idea how to explain it. I'm not really sure what I felt. I don't know if I'm attracted to him, or if I care about him, or if I'm just in desperate need of male attention. I don't even know how he feels about me. Perhaps his feelings are just something short term. I know how easily men can drop women. One day they're in love, and the next they're moving on to a different woman. And besides, I'm married. I'm most likely doomed to be with that son of a bitch for the rest of my life, so what's the point in even discussing any of this? I really don't see the point.

"I'll admit.. I don't regret what happened. I should, and I feel guilty, but what happened... made me happy. A feeling I haven't felt in awhile," I divulge quietly.

Yes, that kiss did make me feel happy. I don't know why I did it, something was just telling me to be with him. I don't know why I feel these emotions either; we just met, but being around him makes me feel.. Safe. And comfortable. And happy. I like having his company, and despite what happened, I want us to be friends. Just friends.

Ha! Sure friendship is the only thing you want...

"That's exactly how I feel. Something is always telling me to be with you. And I like having you around.." he admitted.

Wow. Is he a mind reader?; because he basically just said everything I was thinking. Or maybe we just feel the exact same way about each other. Each possibility feels absurd.

"Okay, so we've figured out that we like being around each other, our bodies want us to be around each other, and we make each other happy," I pointed out.

When I put it that way, it sounds like we belong together or something. The thought makes me frown.

"So.. where does this leave us?" he asks, and I have to agree with him.

That's exactly what I was thinking.

"I know I should say that we should end this. No more contact, no nothing. But.. I can't. I mean, you've been the only person that's made me feel normal and made me excited to see what the day could bring this past week. I just don't want to give that up, but I know nothing is going to materialize out of this," I whisper, embarrassed.

I hate opening up to people. I've never been an open person, and these last five years I've spent so much time bottling everything up that it's mortifying and hard to express my feelings to Christian.

I look at him expectingly and see a frown on his face. I frown in response to his facial expression. Why is he looking like that? he can't actually disagree with me, could he? he knows that whatever this is is basically a dead end. Nothing's going to happen.

"Why would you say that? Something could come out of this," he says, his voice gruff and defiant.

I huff in response to his statement.

"Oh, please. You're joking right? You see this ring on my finger? It means I'm _married_," I reply sourly.

I really wish I wasn't sometimes. Everyday I regret letting Him sweep me off my feet. Was I really that naive to not notice how much of a psychotic dick He is?

"I'm fully aware of that, Anastasia," he barks out, his tone harsh. "I really don't see why you are when you don't even love him."

"There you go saying that again. How would you know if I loved him or not? You don't know anything about me," I argue.

"Don't pull that bullshit, Ana. I haven't even seen you so much as smile at him when you're in the same room together," he spits out through his teeth.

"That's because I don't smile!" I yell at him and bash my hand on the table.

We both jump in surprise at my audaciousness, and the customers in the cafe turn around to look at us. I blush in response and sink lower down into my seat.

I don't know why I'm arguing with him-he's right. I just can't allow him to be suspicious of my relationship with Him. Suspicion causes people to start investigating, and when people start investigating, they find out things they don't want to know. No one can know about the abuse-it would ruin my life.

"I know you smile. You always smile when you're with me," he mutters.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not going to jeopardize my marriage."

"There won't be anything to jeopardize. This doesn't have to be.. romantic. We can just be friends. For now, at least."

For now?

he says it like there'll be something later on.

"Friends? I guess I could do that," I murmur.

That way, we can be in each others presence like we want to, and then I won't feel guilty. Hmm, problem solved. I knew it was the logical solution, but my gut was telling me it wasn't right. I had this itch in the bottom of my stomach that was telling me I wanted more.

Ha! More. What a wayward thought.

"Okay. Deal. We're friends?"

"Deal, we're friends," I confirmed.

Should we shake hands? Isn't that the way you properly settle an agreement? I look to Christian and he's making no move to shake my hand, so I guess it's not needed. he's frowning at his phone, I wonder what's wrong. Hopefully nothing that requires him to leave. My stomach pings at the thought of being left alone.

"What's wrong? Do you need to leave?" I ask, my voice shaky.

"No, uh... My security just found something. Nothing you need to worry about," he smiles at me, but his smile is unconvincing.

Oh, no, I hope nothing bad is happening. he looks at his phone once more before shutting it off and putting it in his jacket pocket. he turns to me and smiles.

"So, friend, what would you like to do before you have dinner with your parents?"

* * *

"Oh, no, that is just a ridiculous amount of money!" I exclaim.

Christian and I are at the mall and he's insisted on buying me something.

"It's silk-it's worth it," he argues.

he's currently holding up a blue silk blouse that I have to admit, is beautiful. It costs an obscene amount of money, though. I didn't even know something this expensive could be bought in the local mall.

"Yes, it's silk, but it's still too much," I addressed.

he rolled his eyes and put the blouse into my hand.

"You're not paying for it, Anastasia. Now go try it on," he coaxed.

he spins me around and directs me towards the dressing room. I struggle, not wanting to waste his money. I could never spend that much on a shirt, and plus, I really don't think that it's appropriate for him to buy me something so expensive. I'm pretty sure He would have something to say about this.

"No, Christian, it's fine. Just, no, wait-"

"Ana! Stop being stubborn and get inside the room," he says.

he gently shoves me into the dressing room and shuts the door behind him.

"Tell me when you're ready!" he calls out to me.

I sigh and grumble under my breath. Damn him for being so overbearing! I quickly strip out of my shirt and unbutton the blouse he gave to me. It's so pretty-I really like it, but I couldn't accept it. It's completely inappropriate.

I struggle with the buttons, not able to unbutton them. My fingers keep slipping, and the buttons don't want to come out of there holes. I groan at my futile efforts.

"Ana, you alright?" Christian questions.

"I can't get the shirt open," I yell back.

I'm getting more frustrated by the second, why the hell aren't these buttons coming undone?

"Ugh!" I exclaim aloud and throw the shirt down.

I've never had much patience for buttons-they take too much damn effort. I either button them incorrectly, one of them rips off, or like in this situation, they don't want to unbutton. I sit down on the stool in the fitting room and blow out a huge breath.

"Let me in," Christian declares.

"No! I can get it myself," I argue.

I pick the shirt back up and once again try to unbutton it. My fingers slip even more than before, and it seems like I'm never going to get it. I cluck my tongue and sigh, I feel so incompetent. I can't even unbutton a shirt.

"Ana, please, just let me in."

Christian jiggles the door handle and pushes on the door to no avail. It's locked and there's no way in hell I'm letting him in here.

"It's fine. I don't need the shirt anyway."

"No! Just let me in and I'll get it."

I put the shirt back on the hanger and get ready to put on my shirt when I see a mop of copper hair making it's way under the dressing room door. Before I know it, Christian is standing up on the other side of the door. I yelp and grab my chest, trying to keep him from seeing anything. I'm wearing a bra, but I still feel naked.

"Christian!"

"Oh, shit. Sorry," Christian murmurs, abashed.

he has apologized but has made no move to turn away. he just continues to look at me in my half naked state.

"Really, Christian you crawled under the door? What the hell?!" I screech.

I turn away from him, but that doesn't help. There's a mirror behind me that just reflects my image back towards Christian. I sigh and turn around to push him out the door.

"Get out!" I hiss.

I let go of my chest to push on his, leaving my bust open to his prying eyes. he grabs my hands, halting my attack.

"Stop, just let me help you. Isn't that what friends do?" he asks smugly, a smirk on his face.

"Oh, shut up! Don't use the 'friend' card," I grumble at him.

he laughs at my sour attitude and takes the shirt off the hanger. he unbuttons the shirt flawlessly, and I have to roll my eyes at his perfect effort. he opens up the shirt, beckoning me to put my arms in.

"Here, arms in," he offers.

I scowl at him and turn around to place my arms in the shirt. I look at our reflection in the mirror and Christians eyes look dark and stormy, filled with some emotion I can't put my finger on. All I know is that his eyes look sensual, hypnotizing me with every passing second. I break away from his gaze and move to button up the shirt.

My damn fingers slip again and I let out an audible moan of dissatisfaction. Christian chuckles at my failed attempt and spins me around towards him.

"How can a smart, beautiful, sophisticated woman like yourself not be able to button a shirt?" he teases.

I mock punch him and allow him to button up my shirt. he starts at the bottom, his fingertips brushing lightly up against my abdomen. I shiver, goosebumps appearing on my skin from the contact. he continues to go up, leaving searing tingles wherever his skin makes contact with mine. he finally reaches the top button, and his fingertips brush against my breasts. An audible moan escapes my mouth, and Christian halts his advance.

We're both frozen, his hands still gripping my shirt while I stand helplessly in his grasp. I can't believe I moaned, what the fuck? I'm so embarrassed, I know my face probably looks like a ripe strawberry.

I stare up at Christian, awaiting his next movement. His eyes intense and molten grey as they bore down into mine. With slow, deliberate movements, he brushes his fingertips against my chest once more. I gasp and close my eyes, willing myself to get a grip.

This cannot be happening.

I pull myself out of his grip and turn around, buttoning the last button on my own. Wow, when I least need it, I'm finally able to do it on my own. I shake my head at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I really don't think friends do these sort of things," I bark out.

I'm angry at him for being so audacious, and I'm even more angry at myself for allowing him to seduce me.

"Friends also shouldn't react the way you did," he counters.

"Well friends don't try to trick their friends into feeling things they don't want to feel!" I argue back.

"No one can trick someone into feeling something they don't already feel," he whispers.

he stalks towards me and brushes his finger against the back of my neck. My breath hitches, and I struggle to fight off these unwanted feelings.

"Please, don't," I urge meekly.

My voice is shaky and unconvincing, filled with longing.

Christian moves my hair off of my neck, leaving it bare. he continues caressing the naked skin, leaving heat where his skin connects with mine. I close my eyes and surrender myself to the feeling-I can't resist anymore.

"No means no," I whimper.

"Only if you mean it," he whispers, his voice velvety smooth and filled with passion.

his hot breath bounces off the skin on my neck and I let go of another moan. My stomach clenches and suddenly I feel weak in the knees. Christian flicks his lips against my neck, his stubble rough against my smooth skin. I whimper, chastising myself for allowing this to happen. What am I doing? he has to stop!

I try to protest, but my voice doesn't seem to be working. I can't focus on anything but the feel of his lips against my neck and his hands trailing up my sides. I'm full on panting, shallow puffs of air moving through my lungs.

God, help me.

Christian continues his sensual assault on my body, and I no longer try to protest. What's the point? I know I like it, and he knows it too unfortunately. his hand makes it's way up my blouse, his warm hand like fire against my cold skin. I gasp, my toes curling with fiery sensation of his skin against mine. I'm breathless, waiting for more when all of a sudden he stops. he removes his hand from under my shirt and draws his lips back from my neck.

"Are you still sure you want to be just friends?" he asks.

he kisses my neck once more before he exits the fitting room, leaving me breathless and confused.

What a fucking tease.

* * *

"Annie? Come on in here, baby!" Ray screams, his voice filled with excitement.

I race up the steps and into my dads arms, his familiar smell of leather and lemon engulfing me. I breathe it in, the scent instantly comforting me. Oh, gosh how I've missed this man.

"Oh, Dad, I've missed you so much!" I exclaim into the crook of his neck.

he rubs my back and squeezes me in silent agreement.

"Annie, it's been too long. Never go away like that again, ya hear?" he chides.

I nod, but I know that right after this I'll be AWOL again.

"Now, don't you want to give your mama some love too?" I hear a sweet voice say.

I look past Ray and see my mom standing in the doorway. I race towards her, enveloping her in my arms the same way I did with Ray. I want to cry, my heart racing with sweet joy. I can't believe how much time I've spent away from these amazing people. No visits, no calls, not even a letter. It was basically like they were dead. My heart pings and I vow to never be away from them for so long ever again. I don't care how many beatings it cost, I will always do as much as I can to be with them.

Christian stands awkwardly to the side, allowing me and my family some alone time before he introduces himself. I don't think my parents have even noticed him, with them being so excited to see me. I don't blame them, I don't think I would've noticed him either. We continue our reunion, talking about how we've all been, hugs and kisses being passed around, etc. etc. Finally, Ray notices the tall and handsome man standing on his porch.

"And you are?" he asks, his voice wary and puzzled.

"Christian. I'm a friend of Ana's."

I roll my eyes-he's hardly a friend. he's a jerk. An insanely handsome, funny, and overbearing jerk.

A jerk that I can't seem to stop obsessing over.

"Well, hello. Come on in!" Ray bellows, his voice booming and loud. he's so excited that I think he would invite anyone in at the moment.

I introduce them to Christian, telling them that he's a business partner with my husband. Blah, I hate saying that word. I would prefer to call Him a sadistic bastard, but I think that would raise some suspicion. They graciously welcome them into their home like they always do with visitors. That's probably my favorite thing I love about them-how friendly they are.

We make our way into the living room and sit down, conversing about idle things while we wait for Kate. Christian tells them about his business, and both my parents are fascinated. They ooh and aah at all the right parts, exactly how I was when I first learned about Christian. Knowing him a little bit better, I have to roll my eyes at their intense interest in him. he's really not all that special when you really know him.

_Oh, please you're just being a bitter bitch. You're just mad that you can't have him._

Wow, my subconscious is really being a dick today. Ray and Christian are talking about fishing when Kate arrives. I make my way to the front door and there Kate is in all her 5'11 glory. Not only that, but she has a bottle of vodka in one hand, and a bottle of rum in the other.

"Hello, Ms. Steele." She greets me.

"Gosh, Kate what did you do, rob a liquor store?" I ask, appalled.

I can't remember the last time I had such hard alcohol. It was probably sometime in college. He wouldn't even allow me to even look at liquor like this.

"Don't get all wussy on me now, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, we're getting drunk tonight!" She says enthusiastically, pushing past me to go greet my parents.

I shake my head at her, how did we even become friends? I chuckle at her boldness and shut the door, making my way to go join everyone. I let out a sigh, I know Kate will succeed in her attempt to get me drunk-she always does. Kate walks up to me with a glass with a clear liquid, and it's definitely not water. She hands it to me and I timidly bring it up to my lips. Hell, you only live once. I tip back my head and the liquid slides down my throat.

Let the games begin.

* * *

"And Iiiiiieiiiiiiiii eiiiiiiii will always loveeeee you! oooh oohh! Will always love youu!"

Both my parents sing drunkenly. They're horribly off key and overly loud. Kate and I chuckle at their failed karaoke attempt, shaking our heads at their horrible singing. I know I probably couldn't do much better considering my head is swimming and I can barely see the words on the tv screen. I feel like I'm going to vomit, but I have this insane urge to laugh. A giggle escapes my throat, which turns into an even louder giggle. Soon enough I'm hysterically laughing, although I don't know why. Not knowing why I'm laughing makes me laugh harder. Soon enough Kate is joining in on my giggle fest and we're both rolling around on the floor, tears streaming down our faces.

Mom and Dad continue to sing, their new song choice something from the 70's. They're even more off key than before, and that sets me off once again. I can't seem to stop laughing and my stomach is soon hurting from the strain.

"Come on, Ana, I think you've had enough," I hear a velvety voice say.

I look up into grey eyes and I realize who it is.

Christian!

Sweet, sweet Christian.

he lifts me up from the floor, his arms wrapped around me tightly.

Hmm, that feels nice.

I giggle once again, breathing in his scent and wrapping my arms around his neck. his face looks weird-it's distorted and wrinkly, like ripples in a pond.

"D-do we haveeeeee to leave now?" I ask.

My voice sounds weird and yucky. I wonder why I can't speak properly.

_It's because you're drunk, dummy._

Oh!

I'm drunk!

I giggle at my thoughts, finally understanding why everything is so weird.

"I figured it out, Christian! I'm drunk! I'm drunk!" I exclaim, giggling.

"I know, Ana. That's why we have to get you home," he says.

"Noooo! I don't wanna go homeee!" I whine.

I want to stay with Kate and my parents. I just got to be with them! I don't wanna leave now!

"You need to rest, Ana. I'll take you to see them tomorrow," he bargains.

"Promise?" I ask.

"Promise," he acquices.

"Pinky promise?" I ask again with a giggle.

"Pinky promise," he grumbles out, his voice annoyed.

"Double pinky promise?" I snickered.

"Yes, Ana! Now, please let's go," he replies.

he drags me towards my parents, explaining to them that we have to go. Both of them each give me a kiss, and I tell them I'll be over tomorrow. he then drags me towards Kate, who is passed out on the couch, the empty bottle of rum clutched in her hand. I chuckle at her and bend down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Do you think we should give her a ride?" Christian asks.

"Nah, my parents will l-let her crash here," I informed.

he nods his head and steers me towards the front door.

"Goodbye everyone and thank you for the lovely night!" he calls out to my parents and an unconcious Kate.

"Goodbye, guys!" My parents yell back and then we're soon out the door.

* * *

_**CHRISTIAN POV**_

"I've always wanted a pony. Christian, will you buy me a pony? I asked Ray for one, but he said that I didn't need one and we wouldn't have anywhere to put it, but I still want one. Will you buy me a pony, Christian? Will you? Will you? I also want a puppy too, so that they pony won't feel lonely and that they could play together and then they could be one big happy family and I could raise more little ponies and puppies and then they'd all get along and I could teach them tricks and..." Anastasia babbles while I drag her into her penthouse.

Jesus fucking Christ, kill me. This is why I never let my submissives drink. She has been going on and on and on about ponies and other various animals the whole way home. She has basically talked my ear off, and I'm surprised that she's one of those drunk people that talk instead of pass out.

"And then you could live on the farm with us and help me raise the puppies and ponies and we could all be happy. Don't you want that, Christian? Don't you? Don't you? Don't you?"

"Yes, Anastasia. Yes, I do," I agree.

I pull her along, stumbling to find her bedroom. I turn and walk around aimlessly, until I find a room at the very end of the hall. Hmm, maybe this is it. I pull on the handle, but it's locked. I jiggle again, hoping that it's miraculously opened, but it's still locked.

"Oh, no.. Don't go in there. There's monsters in there," Ana whispers.

"What kind of monsters?" I ask, my voice concerned.

I always knew her husband was some type of weirdo, what if he's hiding dead bodies in there or something?

_Or maybe whips and chains like some other weirdo hides in his locked room._

I ignore my subconcious and wait for Anastasia to answer, but she never does. She just shakes her head and looks down. I brush it off, maybe she's just drunk talking, but in my gut I know that something's hiding in there.

"Ana, where's your room?"

"Upstairs," she yawns.

I pull her the opposite direction until I find the staircase. I try to get her to walk up, but she just slips and giggles.

"Come on, Ana, walk up the stairs," I say, my voice slightly irritated.

"I can't," she whines.

I roll my eyes and decide to pick her up. It saves me from having to drag her everywhere.

"Ooh, you're a big and strong man aren't you?" she laughs.

I huff, silently vowing to never let her drink again. She most definitely cannot handle her liquor. I finally make my way to the second floor, and luckily there is only two rooms up here. I go with the first one, hoping I'll be lucky enough for it to be her bedroom. I open the door, and sure enough it is. I breathe a sigh of relief and gently place Ana on the bed.

"Are you gonna join me, Big Daddy?" Ana says sultrily, then erupts in vicarious giggles afterwards.

"Maybe when you're sober," I reply.

I make work of taking off her shoes and socks, dumping them on the floor. I move up the bed to her pants button, and swiftly undo them.

"Uh oh, you're crossing dangerous territory, comrade," she mutters.

I ignore her, pulling down her jeans. I try to be professional about this, but I can't stop myself from getting turned on. Why does she have to be so damn attractive? I discard her jeans onto the floor, leaving them with her shoes and socks. I move up even further on her bed, unbuttoning the blouse I bought her today. Hmm, this blouse has been very beneficial to me. I remember our time in the fitting room and I feel a twitch in my pants.

_Stop thinking about dirty things, you pervert._

I tug her arms from the sleeves and neatly fold the shirt and put it on her bedside table. That costed way too much money for it to be thrown on the floor. I look at Ana's half-naked body, and I do everything in my power to not ravish her then and there. I want to. Really fucking badly, but I'm not going to take advantage of her while she's drunk and only half-conscious.

Out of nowhere I hear Anastasia whimper.

"You're not going to do what He does, are you?" I hear her whisper, so low I barely heard it.

"What? No. What does He do, Anastasia?"

I assume that she's talking about her husband, because what other male does she come in contact with? It's been proven many times that she has no social life.

_You don't either, Grey._

"Nothing, I shouldn't have told you," she whispers.

"No, Ana, tell me," I insist.

Ana looks down and shakes her head. I sigh, goddamnit! I now realize why I like having submissives. They do whatever you tell them, and if Ana was my submissive, she would've obeyed me the first time I asked her.

"I wouldn't mind if you did, though," she starts, her voice low, like she's embarrassed. "I think it would feel nicer with you," she admits.

What the fuck is she talking about? She runs her hands down my back, pulling on my jacket. She takes it off and throws it onto the floor.

Wait, is she talking about sex?

I think she's talking about sex.

She trails her hands down my chest, ripping my dress shirt from out of my pants. Soon enough she's starting to unbutton my dress shirt. She's having no problem with it like she did earlier today.

Oh, God, is this really happening?

Ana leans up to kiss me, her lips warm and wet. I'm momentarily startled, not sure what to do. No, she's drunk. This isn't right. I pull her off of me, but she's soon back again, reconnecting her mouth with mine. Her kisses are frenzied and her hands are working furiously to unbutton my shirt.

"Ana, no-"

She halts my protest with her mouth, showering me with wet kisses. Her hands are still at work on my shirt, now having trouble with the buttons. It's not long before she gives up completely and just rips the shirt open, buttons flying across the room. Her hands grope at my bare chest, and I'm shocked that I don't feel any fear from her touch. She pushes the shirt off my shoulder, desperately trying to get it off.

"No, Ana, don't."

I shake her off, not wanting to let this go any further. My head is screaming that this is all wrong, that she's drunk and doesn't know what she's doing, but my other head is telling me to keep going. I decide to listen with my bigger head.

"Ana, you don't know what you're doing right now," I say.

"No, please," she begs, once again trying to pull off my shirt.

I grab her hands and force her to stop. I desperately want to give in. Believe me, if she was sober I wouldn't think twice about this, but not when she's like this. It's not right and I don't want her to make a decision she'll regret. I look down at her, and I'm shocked to see tears forming in her eyes. Oh, God, please don't start crying. I really am not good with crying people.

"Shh, no Ana, don't cry," I cajole.

Why is she crying? I really hate when people cry.

"Please, Christian. Please, I want to feel good," she sputters out as tears roll down her face.

I frown, not sure what to say. What the hell does someone do in a situation like this? I shake my head and wipe the tears from her face. I'm not going to do this, even if she begs me, it's wrong. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to my chest. I lower us both down onto the bed, my arm tightly around her waist as she crys silently. I don't let her go, even when she stops crying and is blissfully asleep. I hold her, making sure that she's okay. I don't know for how long, but before I know it I've slipped into a deep slumber.

* * *

_**Hello again, how was that? I hope it was worth the wait. Leave a review, you know how I love your feedback!**_

_**XOXO**_


	7. I'm Done

_**Must Read: Hello. Hola. Bonjour. Dohbra Umbra. Ni hao. (Did I spell that right?) Well, it's been quite a while since I've updated now hasn't it? I apologize my sweets.. It's just.. I had to rewrite this story. I didn't like the way it was going. In short, my story was going to shit. It was rushed and people stopped reading and reviewing. I hated it! So now I'm starting over. I'm sorry if you don't want it to be that way, but please keep an open mind and keep reading. I would love if you guys wouldn't abandon me, and I would also love if you guys would let me know if you're still there. It's been like.. months? and I know there might be some people who hate me for taking so long:( **_

_**Sorry. **_

_**Love you.**_

_**XX**_

_**P.S. I'm not going to proofread this-I'm too damn lazy and it's late at night. (:**_

* * *

I'm dangling on the edge of dormancy and awareness. I'm in an "in-between" sort of state. My insides are fighting; one wants to stay asleep, and the other, more masochistic part is fighting to reach consciousness. I know that if I wake up, I'll have another day of hell to face. And if I stay asleep, I will be protected in my cocoon of bliss. Nothing could touch me.

Unfortunately, I feel hands roaming down the length of my arm, giving me tickling embraces. The sensation zaps me awake.

I open my eyes, and the sunlight streams in. It's impossibly bright for a winter day in Seattle. I let my heart fill with hope; maybe this will be a good day, Mother Nature seems to think so. My blossoming heart, however, is crushed when I continue to feel fingertips brushing my skin.

I look at the hand, which is much more tan than I expected. Also, there is no ring on the finger.

What the..?

I spring up into a sitting position, my head snapping to the left. I most definitely was expecting to be met with ice cold blue eyes-not warm molten grey.

"What the fuck?!" I yell, grabbing the duvet and pulling it up to cover my scantily clad chest.

I glare down at Christian, his face looking relaxed and calm despite my most recent outburst. It's as if our position is completely normal-which it obviously isn't. His hair is messy, the copper colored ends sticking up in random places. His eyes are bright, but the faint traces of sleep are still evident.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sitting up to face towards me.

I inch away, not really wanting to be near him right now. "The Devil" could come back any minute, and there would be hell to pay if He caught us in such a compromising position; actually, in fact, I'm almost positive He would kill me. He would stay calm until Christian left, but then all hell would break loose, which could quite possibly result in my death.

"You need to get out. Now."

I rush out of bed, embarrassed at what I'm wearing... well, not wearing would be the better term. My face is flushed completely red, and I hope he doesn't notice. I ponder on why I'm not wearing much in the first place. I sincerely hope that nothing.. intimate happened last night. I would hate myself forever. I don't know what I'm trying to achieve by spending time with him. I'm married, and I'll never have a normal life. That's just it, and I need to face the facts. Why would I kiss him? Because we both feel some "connection"? Uh, no. I'm some pathetic excuse of a woman who gets the shit beat out of her every night. I'm desperate and I would probably feel a "connection" with a random homeless person who lives downtown.

I rush into my closet and throw on the first scrap of clothing I find. What's wrong with me? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is so risky. I should've never called him that night. I should've stayed home like a good girl and minded my business. Now look what I've gotten myself into! Of course, I wouldn't have seen my family, I wouldn't have gotten the security tapes, I wouldn't have felt like a normal person... but was it even worth it? I'm tangled in a big web of bullshit now.

"What did I do wrong?" He asks, his face genuinely shocked.. and hurt? I can't tell.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, it's me. I don't even know what I'm doing, but we really shouldn't talk anymore," I stumble out hastily.

I'm currently rushing around the room like a chicken with it's head cut off, as I try to gather up tossed clothes and clean the room so it looks normal. I pick up dozens of tiny buttons, and I'm confused as to why there are so many spattered on the floor. What the hell happened last night? I try to recover my memory, but I realize I don't want to remember. Everything that is happening right now, I realize I don't want it to be happening.

It's absolutely preposterous. Isn't this always what I wanted? Just affection from another man? All I've wanted is for someone to care for me, to touch me out of love.. Not out of anger. All I've wanted is a normal life. A white picket fence, a dog, and 2.5 kids. But nope, I've not acquired any of that. I live in a glass penthouse, everything in it completely cold and devoid of any love. The only emotion prominent in this house is fear and hatred. I don't have a dog-The Devil hates them. Actually, The Devil hates anything that has real feelings and loyalty. I also don't have 2.5 kids. I have a kid that's dead-but I don't really think that counts.

My life is a disaster. I'm lying, suffering, and nobody knows it. So why am I rejecting Christian? Why don't I run away and try something new with him? It's not money-he's more wealthy than The Devil. It's not looks, for he's far more handsome. It's not even character either. Christian has a heart of gold and the soul of an angel from what I can tell. I've known him for such a short time, and I can already tell he's a good person.

But wait.

Is that it? Is it the time amount? With a sudden clarity, I realize the problem. I stumbled into a relationship so quickly with Lucian, and he turned out to be the most sadistic and disgusting bastard that's ever graced the Earth. Is that what I'm afraid of? I must be afraid of making the same mistake with Christian. I don't know who this guy is. For all I know, he likes beating women for pleasure. I can't make that same mistake again. I can't allow myself to fall for someone I don't know-he could be a monster in disguise. Lord knows I have plenty of experience with those type of people.

I also can't tell if what we feel is real. I can't trust myself. I'm weak and needy.. and Christian. Why would he ever be interested in me? He's beautiful and I'm so... ugly. My own husband is repulsed by me. I can't believe that anyone that looks like him could ever be interested. I would just embarrass myself thinking that.

"Why should we not talk?" He asks, furrowing his brow, reaching out towards me.

I ignore his advance. Does he really not get it? No, of course he doesn't. He doesn't really how damaged and complicated my life is. I wouldn't expect anyone to understand that.

"Because, Christian, this is nothing! It could never work," I grit out. "And.. my husband will be home soon. I don't want him to come home and witness this."

"What do you mean this is nothing?" He asks, appalled. "Anastasia, I thought we talked about this. We have a connection-we help each other!"

"Oh, yes. Because cheating on my husband is helping me, right?!"

"It was just a kiss-that's hardly cheating," he disagrees. "Why are you acting like this? Why the sudden change of heart? This isn't what you were saying last night.." he whispers ominously.

I snap towards him, a few buttons slipping from my hands. I reach down to pick them off the carpet, but my heart is pounding. What does he mean by that? What did I say to him last night?

"What did I say last night?" I demand.

"It's not what you said... It's more of what you did."

I cock an eyebrow at him, wanting him to continue. I try to act aloof, as if I don't care about what he's saying, but I'm inwardly cringing. Dear god, I hope I didn't embarrass myself.. or worse, do something that I will heavily regret.

"You really don't remember do you?"

"Obviously I don't or I wouldn't be asking you!" I snap.

He squints at me and seems taken back. I feel guilty, but I push it away. I'm so sick of feeling bad. I'm sick of feeling anything at all.

"Why are you acting like this? I swear whatever I did, I'm sorry, Ana. I just don't want you to push me away," he whisper, his voice laced with genuine concern and hurt.

I hate myself for being such a bitch. It's so easy for me to push away the people that actually care, but the ones who treat me like shit I could happily keep them in my life. I'm so... I'm such a.. I'm such a masochistic idiot.

"I'm not pushing you away.. I'm just letting you know this isn't what I want," I lie.

I would gladly run off into the sunset with him.. but there's so much at stake. I'm not sure I'm ready to take such a risk.

"I don't know you, Christian-"

"Well get to know me!" He interrupts.

"I can't do that because I have wedding vows to uphold. Even if being faithful is not something you cherish, it is to me."

Christian glares at me, his grey eyes starting to flame.

"And.. we're both just fooling ourselves. This "connection" we have... do you actually think it's real? Two people don't just know each other for two weeks and they automatically form some sort of bond. That's not the way the world works, Christian."

"Haven't you heard of love at first sight?" He whispers.

"I stopped believing in love a long time ago... I think you should go before He shows up.."

"Why don't you ever call him by his name?" Christian asks abruptly.

I cock my head at him. He noticed that? Observant, that boy is. I shake my head at him, signaling I'm not going to answer.

Christian nods and picks up his things. His face has gone completely impassive as he gets ready to leave. Before walking through the door, he stops mere inches away from me, his scent wafting up my nose, sending chills down my spine.

"Just so you won't drive yourself crazy with curiosity, nothing bad happened last night.. We didn't do anything if that's what you're worried about."

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Thank God we didn't. I would drown in guilt, even though I shouldn't feel that way.

"And, Anastasia... You're a horrible liar. I'm not gonna give up even though you say you want me to. I feel something... and I can't let that go to waste," he whispers fervently.

His hand cups my cheek in an embrace, and I curse myself for leaning into it. This is just a goodbye embrace, that's all. I try to tell myself that, but I know it's more than that.

"When you're done punishing yourself for reasons I don't understand, you know where to find me."

And with those last words, he's gone.

As soon as I hear the front door shut, it feels like a deep hole is embedded into my chest. I feel empty. Even worse than before any of this happened, if that's even possible.

I slink down onto the bed, every office of my body feeling completely empty. I blow out a deep breath. What has my life come to? I've been reduced to an unhappy, bitter, old harp... and it's all my own doing. I keep punishing myself-just like he said.. and I can't stop.

I scream out in frustration, letting out everything that I can no longer hold in. It's a relief.. cathartic. And it's not long before the tears come out, the salty liquid falling down my face.

* * *

I finish dusting the last remaining surface in the penthouse, hoping that everything is spotless. My heart is pounding with cold, hard fear. Would He suspect that I had left? Would He suspect that I had someone here? I'm not sure what He would think considering He always thinks as low of me as possible. He probably thinks I was running an underground prostitution site while He was gone.

I sigh and look around the room. Everything looks exactly the same before He left-I made sure of it. I still can't help that He'll know that something is amiss-He always knows. I look at the clock.

Ten minutes.

He's never late, so that leaves me with 600 seconds to make myself look presentable. I race upstairs and hop into the shower. I don't allow myself to enjoy the water-I don't have the time right now. I hop out and notice that it only took me two minutes. That must be some sort of new record. I towel off quickly and throw on a comfortable pair of shorts, before deciding to take them off. I don't want to dress up too much, because it looks suspicious. But I don't want to look ugly and make him mad. I sigh and decide to just put on a pair of jeans and a sweater.

Two minutes.

Should I put on makeup? No, that would be trying too hard. Maybe I should just go for a light blush and some minimal maschera. I dash into the bathroom and apply it before He arrives. I'm doing all of this to please Him so He doesn't hurt me... but I can't help but to think that it's something else. Some part of me still wishes that He could... I halt the thought before I can fully process it. He will never and could never think of me as anything other than dirt.

I stare into the mirror, hating the horrid reflection that looks back at me. Why couldn't I be born beautiful? Maybe my life wouldn't be so messed up as it is. I turn away, disgusted with myself. No wonder He hates me.

The door opens and slams shut a moment later, and I leave the bathroom to go meet him. I put on a fake smile, pushing down all of the emotions that have bubbled to the surface.

_Time to put on a show, Steele._

He's standing in the doorway, taking off his shoes and jacket at the door. He sets his briefcase on top of the breakfast bar, not even glancing in my direction. Maybe He doesn't see me... or maybe He just doesn't want to.

"Hello," I murmur, my voice low and wary.

I go to hug Him, but He swiftly deflects my embrace, swatting me away harshly. Hot shame bubbles up inside me. I look down, the embarrassment almost pushing me to the verge of tears.

He looks towards me, His face settling into a dissatisfied scowl when he sees my appearance.

"What are you wearing?" He spits out. "And your hair... couldn't you have at least put some effort into looking nice? It's every mans dream to come home to you isn't it?" He mutters sarcastically, brushing past me.

I stare at him, pushing the shame and hurt down into the depths of my body. What is it? What do I have to do so that he won't hate me? I'm furious! All I've ever wanted was for him was to love me... And he never has. But I won't let Him know that what He says affects me. I won't give Him the satisfaction... but I can't help but feel disgusting. Everything I do is always wrong... I feel like such a failure, a screw-up.

"Make dinner-I'm hungry."

I stare at His retreating form, marveling at how easy it is for Him to hate me. What have I done to deserve it? Am I that bad of a person? Am I that repulsive? I swallow the tears and head into the kitchen, doing what He asks of me immediately. I don't want any problems, and cooking is the one thing I won't mess up.

* * *

"Is it good?" I ask. "It's not too hot right?"

"Humph," he mumbles, ignoring me and digging into the steak I prepared.

I push away my plate, not feeling hungry anymore. I stare down at my knotted fingers, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

* * *

What is this?" He growls out, holding the evidence sickeningly close to my face.

I gulp nervously, trying to keep my composure. I'm also trying to come up with a really good lie to tell Him.

"I-i don't know.." I whisper unconvincingly.

With the speed of lightning, His hand connects with my face, sending white-hot pain on the side of my cheek. I gasp, grabbing my face where He just slapped me.

"Don't lie to me!" He spits out.

He grabs my hair, dragging me into the bathroom.

"I'm not lying! I promise!" I scream, the terror in my voice echoing off of the walls.

I cry out in pain, my scalp feeling as if it's on fire. He's tugging so hard I feel as if my hair will rip off any second now. I swore that I picked up every single button from off the floor, but I must've missed some. This is what I get. I shouldn't have left the house, I shouldn't have paraded around town with Christian. I should've never talked to Christian. No.. maybe I never should've gotten involved with Him. Every single decision I make always comes back to bite me in the ass.

He drags me across the cool tile of the bathroom floor, His grip on my hair tightening. I whimper in pain, and almost have the urge to laugh at myself. I turn away the people who love and care about me for this. I deserve everything that's happening right now. Maybe He'll take mercy on me and end my sad existence before it's too late.

I wouldn't object to it.

He turns on the shower, the water spurting out in all directions. He hoists me up by the waist, throwing me into the spray. I howl in shock, the water freezing cold and painful. He holds me under the spray, fighting off my advances.

"I'm giving you one last time to tell the truth. What. Is. THIS?" He yells over the roaring water and my whimpering.

"I don't know!" I scream, my body tingling. It feels like tiny needles are stabbing me all over.

He growls in frustration, letting go of my hair and roughly pushing me aside. My head bangs against the side of the tub, pain reverberating through my skull. I cry out in agony, feeling the spot where the blow landed. My fingers feel something warm and thick, and as I pull back to examine my hand, I see that there is blood coating my fingers. I gasp in fear, my stomach roiling.

He looks at me in disgust, His face pinched up tightly.

"When I find out what happened in here, I swear to God I'll kill you," He whispers, His face deadly close to mine.

His eyes are stone cold and flinty, filled with rage. Trepidation is racing through my body, paralyzing me so all I can do is stare back at Him with wide eyes.

"Clean yourself up," He mutters, leaving me all alone, my body aching with each cold droplet of water that pounds down onto my skin.

* * *

**CHRISTIAN POV**

Who was I to think I had a chance? No one could ever care about Christian Grey. Not even my own mother wanted me. It's almost funny in a way. She chose crack over me. A white powder substance over her living and breathing son.

Clearly I'm unable to be loved.

I pound down onto my laptop angrily, slamming the lid down and sliding it off of my desk. It hits the floor with a thud, and I instantly know it's broken.

I don't give a fuck. I'll just buy a new one.

I blow out a frustrated breath. I'm trying to help this girl, and she refuses everything I offer. Women throw themselves at me, willing to do anything that I ask of them. I could make any woman do what I want. They would do it without a second thought-so why didn't she want me? Because she's married?

Why the fuck does that matter?

Maybe it's just me-I have no morals or decency. But clearly she's not happy, or she wouldn't have kissed me. If she was so in love with her beloved and perfect husband, then she would have no desire for me-but I know she does. She wanted to have sex with me last night! Most married women don't want anyone other than their husbands, but she wants me-I don't give a fuck what she says.

I can see right through her.

I shake my head. I sound like a madman-a rapist. I can't demand she wants something, maybe she doesn't... but I can feel it. When we're together, I feel the energy, the electricity. She admitted she did, but she doesn't want to believe it. I sigh. She's too loyal.

Too damn good.

And that's why we can't work.

I'm a screwed up bastard and she's... Phew, where to start? She's a lot of things. She's different. That's why I want her. Why I like her. I've never wanted something.. more than sex with a woman. If I'm being completely honest, she's damn lucky. There's many of my submissives who would love to be in her position. I never wanted them that way, but Ana... I'm not sure what she has.. but I want it.

My blackberry buzzes and I groan in annoyance. The last thing I need right now is to do deal with work and get more stressed out. I click my phone and answer the call hastily.

"What?!" I growl out.

"Uh.. Christian?" She whispers meekly.

Goddamnit. Really? This is just what I need right now; her calling me and messing with me some more. What, is she going to say the same things tomorrow if I fall for whatever she's going to say now?

"What?" I ask again, my voice not as nearly as harsh as it was before.

"I'm done," she murmurs.

I roll my eyes. She's calling me to tell me she's done? I think she said that loud and clear this morning. What, is she calling to rub some more salt into my wounds?

"I know. You made that pretty clear already."

"No... I'm really done. I'm done punishing myself."

I don't reply back. I can't right now. I'm trying to figure out if she's being sincere, or if she doesn't mean it. There's a long silence before I hear her voice again.

"I'm being sincere," She says, as if she could read my mind.

I huff. Huh, now is that right? I almost have the urge to smile. Grey always gets what he wants.

"Well, thank fuck for that," I murmur.

* * *

_**Was it worth the wait? (Most likely it wasn't-don't lynch me) Tell me how ya feel. Flame me if you want-just say something. Blah. If you think it's total shit, I might just discontinue this story. I hated the first attempt, and I'm not sure how y'all with feel with this second attempt. Gah, just let me know in your review.**_

_**XX**_


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